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in 2013 



Illustrated Magazine 

For Young Folks. 




Part II., May, 1903, to October, 1903. 



Copyright, 1903, by The Century Co. 

The De Vinne Press. 

Librmry, U«v. •* 

North Ch *■"****• 




Six Months — May, 1903, to October, 1903. 



Abner Brown, the Penman. Verse. (Illustrated) Garrett Newkirk 1123 

About Magnets. (Illustrated) Lawrence B. Fletcher 710 

Alcott, A Letter About Miss Annie Alcott Pratt 631 

Alligatortoise, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by Louise Clark) Alice Brown 11 19 

Alphabet Picnic, An. Verse Jane E. Lyman 779 

Ancient Fleets, Some. (Illustrated by Andre Castaigne and J. O. Davidson). Fanny Gwen Ford 808 

Apple-tree and I, The. Verse. (Illustrated by J. H. Hatfield) Thomas Tapper 923 

Artist, the Sparrow, and the Boy, The. {Illustrated by Meredith Nugent). John Russell Coryell 638 

Art of Doing Without, The. Verse Minnie Leona Upton 696 

Assay Office, A Trip through the New York. (Illustrated) Joseph Henry Adams 1081 

Attractive Experiment, An. Picture, drawn by B. J. Rosenmeyer 713 

AUGUST. Verse Mary Brownson Church .... 900 

Aunt Tabitha. Verse. (Illustrated by M. O. Kobb£) Webster Duyckinck Campbell . 92Z 

Autumn at the Zoo. Picture, drawn by Adolf Doring 1067 

Baby's Name, The. ' Verse Tudor Jenks 600 

Baby White. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) Mary A. Lathbury 838 

Bashful Little Bachelor, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Anna Wheelan Bettz). Annie T. Colcock 867 

Beehive, The. Picture, drawn by Peter Newell 934 

Bell-buoy's Story, The. (Illustrated by I. W. Taber) John Weatherby 871 

'' Bird Man " OF Paris, The. (Illustrated from a photograph) J. A. D. 1096 

Birds' Breakfast, The. Picture, drawn by Margaret E. Webb 630 

Birds in Autumn, With the. (Illustrated by Alice Sargent) Ernest Ingersoll 1001 

Bit of Indoor Play, A Ormsby A. Court 735 

Blowing Bubbles. Jingle. (Illustrated by Fanny Y. Cory) C. R. Hoagland 646 

" Boxer " and the Goslings L. M. Burns 1070 

Brewster's Debut. (Illustrated by C. M. Relyea) Ralph Henry Barbour 963 

Browning, Robert. (" A Little Talk about a Great Poet ") Klyda Richardson Steege . . . 977 

Buenos Aires, the Greatest City South of the Equator. (Illustrated) . .G. M. L. Brown 816 

Capturing a Great Serpent. (Illustrated by I. W. Taber) G. R. O'Reilly 714 

Catcher's Mitt and the Bat, The. Picture, drawn by Peter Newell 971 

Cavalry, In the. (Illustrated by C. M. Relyea) Frances Courtenay Baylor . . 784 

Chaucer's Youth, In. (Illustrated by B. J. Rosenmeyer) E. A. Fennell 592 

" Chico," the Chimpanzee. (Illustrated by J. Carter Beard) W. T. Hornaday 1093 

" Children, my Father ! " Picture, drawn by J. E. Kelly 833 

City Maid, A. Jingle. (Illustrated by B. M. Waters) CM. Staples 1035 

Clever Nurse, The. Verse. (Illustrated by J. McD. Walcott) Margaret Johnson 1078 

Clock of Wells, The Great. (Illustrated from photographs) Rosalind Richards 1065 

Condescension, A. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) Helen S. Daley 637 

Counting C. K. Wead ... 1 1 16 

Counting the Stars. Verse Thomas Tapper 900 

Dame Quigley's Glass. Verse. (Illustrated by Fanny Y. Cory) Eva L. Ogden 596 

Dancing Class, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) Esther H. Staples . . . 634 

" Dandy Dash " and How He Gave the Alarm. (Illustrated) Grace Weld Soper 1068 



Daring Froggy, The. (Illustrated by the Author; James Clarence Harvey 906 

Deer, That. (Illustrated by George Varian) Marian Warner Wildman. . 1059 

" Dick," the Sea-gull. (Illustrated by M. J. Burns) P. J.M. 590 

Difference, The. Verse Nell Kimberly McElfume. . 616 

Early Morning Plunge, An. Picture, drawn by E. Warde Blaisdell 719 

Enchanted Globe, The. Verse. (Illustrated by J. Carter Beard) Nina Moore Tiffany 612 

Fairy Flower, The. Verse Mary Bradley 734 

Fairy Godmother, The. Picture, drawn by Fanny Y. Cory 647 

Family Measure-board, A. (Illustrated by the Author) Theodore R. Davis 642 

Farmont Tea-room, The. (Illustrated by C. M. Relyea) Frances Cole Burr ... 881 

Father Squirrel. Picture, drawn by Fanny Y. Cory 1004 

Five Hundred Little Worlds Mary Proctor 893 

Flag, The Origin of our. ("Illustrated) Parmalee McFadden 805 

Fleets, Some ANCIENT. (Illustrated by Andre" Castaigne and J. O. Davidson) Fanny Given Ford 808 

Fly, The. Verse '. John Kendrick Bangs 1015 

Flycycle, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Otto Beck) 'iara B. Thresher 1112 

Forest Aflame, In a. (Illustrated by Bruce Horsfall) //. .S'. Canfield 900 

Four-thousand-mile Rage, A. (Illustrated by the Author) Louis Weickum 830 

F 01 ure GENERAL, A. Picture, drawn by Florence Wyman 813 

Gamekeeper's Daughter, The. ("Illustrated by the Author) J. M. Gleeson 579 

" Geraldine." From a portrait by John W. Alexander 689 

Gnor. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) Rudolph F. Bunner 1 126 

Grandpa's Toy. Verse. (Illustrated from a photograph) Ruth Titus 791 

Great Clock of Wells, The. ("Illustrated from photographs) Rosalind Richards 1065 

Guessing Song. Verse Henry Johnstone 1067 

HANNIBAL Interviewed. (Illustrated by A. G. Doring) 589 

Harvest Moon, The. Picture, drawn by Fanny Y. Cory 1091 

Home of "Buff" and "Bouncer," The. ("Illustrated from photographs). .Annie Willis McCullough. . 974 

How Many ? Jingle Justine Ingersoll 719 

How " Napoleon " Reached the House G. M. L. Brown 1090 

How Remi Redeemed Himself. (Illustrated by H. Sandham) Agnes Fraser Sandham 738 

How We Boys were Stormbound on Minot's Lighthouse. (IIlu,- ) Parmaltt McI . adden &- 

trated by I. W. Taber and M. J. Burns; > 

Hunting Weather. Verse Mary Austin 1115 

Ignorant Susie. Jingle. (Illustrated by J. E. Wiederseim) G. G. Wicderseim 971 

In a Forest Aflame. (Illustrated by Brace Horsfall) H. S. Canfield 900 

In Chaucer's Youth. ("Illustrated by B. J. Roser.meyer, E. A. Pennell 592 

Indian Village, An. (Illustrated by C. T. Hill; Julian Ralph 788 

INDOOR Play, A Bit of Ormsby A. Court 735 

Interesting Walk, An. Verse Laura E. Richards 726 

In the Cavalry. (Illustrated by C. M. Relyea) Frances Courtenay Baylor . . 7S4 

Jaguarmadillo, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by Louise Clark) Alice Brown 1119 

Jingles 634 

645, 640, 719, 725, 732, 740, 792, 827, 838, 880, 922, 971, 983, 1000, 1022, 1030, 1078, 1095, 1110, 1118, 1 1 19 

Johnny's Dream. Picture, drawn by Maurice Clifford 1029 

Johnny's Slate Malcolm Douglas 636 

Jo JOBSON Gets a New Job. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author; R. F. Bunner 611 

King Arthur and his Knight -., The Story of. (Ulustrau by the Author). Howard Pyle .617 

697, 793. 9^8, 984, 1097 

Kittens' Chess-party, The. Pictures, drawn by M. Mulford 93* 

Kitty Whit e. ("Illustrated by Maud Humphrey) CM. Branson 1013 

Letter from Miss Alcoi t's Sister, A Annie Alcott Pratt 631 

Life on the Wing. Verse Samuel Gilmore Palmer. ... 921 

Like Grandmama. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author; Agnes M. Watson 740 

Little Boy in A Sur; of Mail, A. (Illustrated by C. T. Hill) In8 

Little Elfin Nurse, The. Verse. ("Illustrated by Albertine Randall Wheelan). Tudor Jenks 7^.2 

Little Gentleman, A. Verse Hannah G. Fernald 580 

Little Lion with the Big Voice, The. ("Illustrated) Anna Isabel Lyman 925 



Little Talk about a Great Poet, A. (Illustrated). Ktyda Richardson Stccge . . . 977 

Lobsterrier, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by Louise Clark) Alice Brawn 1000 

Magnets, About. (Illustrated) Lawrence B. Fletcher 710 

Marjorie's First Celebration. (Illustrated) .A. L. Sykes 814 

Master Mutiny. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) M. O. Kobbe 645 

May-time Morning in Holland, A. Picture 600 

May-time Portrait, A. From a painting by Walter Russell 5S7 

Mer-cupid, The. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) Elizabeth Deneson Lance. . . 778 

Merlads, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Albertine Randall Wheelan) Margaret Vandcgrift 928 

Merry Crocodile, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by Oliver Herford) Gertrude E. Heath 983 

Merry Little Shepherdess, A. Picture, drawn by Fanny V. Cory 616 

Mice and the Snail, The. Picture, drawn by Harry Allchin 1 124 

Minot's Lighthouse, Stormbound on. (Illustrated) Parmalee McFadden 897 

Miss Malcontent. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) M. O. Kobbe 645 

Monday Morning in Fairyland. Picture, drawn by Margaret Ely Webb 893 

Mounting Large Animals. (Illustrated from photographs) Crittenden Marriott 690 

Moying-d.ay in the Woods. Picture, drawn by E. Warde Blaisdell 590 

My Trayeler. Verse. (Illustrated) E. L. Sylvester 696 

"Napoleon's " Wagon-shed Campaign G. M. L. Brown 907 

Negro Children, The Sports of. (Illustrated by E. W. Kemble) Timothy Shaler Williams. . .1004 

Neighbors. Verse. (Illustrated by Alfred Burton) Ethel Barton 737 

New ARITHMETIC, A. (Illustrated by Helen S. Daley) George William Daley 826 

New Game, A Charles Battell Loomis 9S2 

New Miss Muffet, A. Jingle J. C. Meem 922 

Nonsense Calendar, A. Verses. (Illustrated by M. E. Leonard) Carolyn Wells 641 

743. 839,935. IOjIi 112 7 

Novel Fishing Feat, A. (Illustrated by George Varian) Everett Foster 998 

O'Callahans' Picnic Gowns, The. Verse. (Illustrated by George Varian). . Of Ryan O Bryan 733 

Old Lady from Dover, The. Jingle Carolyn Wells 792 

Origin of our Flag, The. (Illustrated) Parmalee McFadden 805 

Pair OF Poachers, A. (Illustrated by George Varian) Ralph Henry Barbour 771 

Pansies. Verse. (Illustrated by J. H. Hatfield) Thomas Tapper 87S 

Peacockatoo, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by Louise Clark) Alice Brown 1000 

Pictures 5S7, 590, 600, 616, 630, 632, 633, 63S, 647, 689, 713, 719, 727, 735, 813,837, 893, 931, 934, 971, 

1022, 1029, 1067, 1080, 1091, 1094, mi, 1124 

Poh-hlaik, THE Cave-Boy. (Illustrated by F. H. Lungren) Charles H. Luvunis 1073 

Polite Abijah. Verse. (Illustrated by C. T. Hill) Ellen Douglas Deland 932 

Pone Bread. Jingle. (Illustrated) Grace MacGowan Cooke .... 732 

Preference, A. Jingle. (Illustrated by the Author) E. L. Sylvester 1030 

Proud Bun, The. Verse. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) Isabel Frances Bellows 1079 

Queen Wilhelmina's Lessons. (Illustrated from photographs) Annie C. Kuiper . 1 120 

Race of the Sea-horses, The. Verse. (Illustrated) Elizabeth Ruggles 8S0 

Rainbow Colors, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Olive Rush) Mary Elizabeth Stone 1023 

Remorse. (Illustrated by C. M. Relyea) Alice Gertrude Field 581 

Russian Peasant and his Turnip, The. Pictures 632 

Scholarly Porcupine, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) Malcolm Douglas mo 

Scholastic Mouse, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by H. L. Bailey) Albert Bigelow Paine 1022 

School-room Dog, The. (Illustrated by Ellen B. Thompson) Mary E. FitzGerald 675 

School Savings-bank, A. (Illustrated from photographs) Waldon Fawcett 1018 

Search for Jean Baptiste, The. (Illustrated by W. Benda) Mary Austin 1024 

Serpent, Capturing a Great. (Illustrated by W. Taber) G. R. O'Reilly 714 

Seven Kings, The. Verse. (Illustrated by W. Benda) William Hale 780 

Smallest Pygmy among Fishes, The. (Illustrated) Hugh M. Smith 741 

Snail and the Race-horse, The. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) . . . .F. C. Gordon 827 

Snap-shots. (Illustrated from photographs) Frederick W. Wendt 721 

Solemn Warning, A. (Illustrated by Albertine Randall Wheelan) Margaret Vandegrift 728 

Some Ancient Fleets. (Illustrated by Andre Castaigne and J. O. Davidson) .Fanny Gwen Ford 808 

Something Wrong. Jingle £. L. Sylvester 725 



Sorrows of Three Little Coons, The. Pictures, drawn by E. W. Kemble 1080 

Spool School, A. (Illustrated by Irving Wiles) Jessie Macmillan Anderson .1125 

Sports of Negro Children, The. (Illustrated by E. W. Kemble) Timothy Shaler Williams . . 1004 

Spring Fashions. Picture, drawn by C. E. Connard 647 

Spring in the Valley. Verse Mary Austin 589 

Stormbound on Minot's Lighthouse. (Illustrated) Parmalee McFadden 897 

Story of King Arthur and his Knights, The. (Illustrated by the Author). Howard Pyle 617 

6 97, 793. 9° 8 . 984. 1097 

Strange Nest-builders. (Illustrated by J. Carter Beard) Allan Leigh 613, 614 

Sudden Shower, A. Picture, drawn by A. H. Stanley „ „ 934 

Summer Shower, A. Picture, drawn by E. Warde Blaisdell 727 

Tertullius Quintus, The Tale of. Verse. (Illustrated by Tessie McD. ) „» . , , „ 

^ J > Margaret Johnson 1008 

Walcott) S 

That Deer. (Illustrated by George Varian) Marian Warner Wildman. . 1059 

Tommy's Farewell to the City Boarders. Picture, drawn by George Stoopendahl 1022 

Toucantelope, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by Louise Clark) Alice Brown 11 19 

Training for Interscholastic Athletics. (Illustrated from photographs) G. W. Orton 601 

Traveler, My. Verse. (Illustrated) F. L. Sylvester 696 

Trip through the New York Assay Office, A. (Illustrated) Joseph Henry Adams 1081 

Twins, The. Jingle. (Illustrated by the Author) Anna B. Craig 1095 

Two Countries, The. Verse. (Illustrated by E. W. Mumford) Jane Marsh Parker 972 

Unicorn, The Wail of the. Verse. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) E. T. Corbett 828 

Unnatural History. Jingles. (Illustrated by Louise Clark) Alice Brown 1000, 1119 

Vacation Days. (Illustrated from paintings by Hope Dunlap) 695 

Wail of the Unicorn, The. Verse. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) E. T. Corbett 828 

Was He a Coward ? (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) Laura E. Richards . . 1016 

Weather Heralds, The. Picture, drawn by Albertine Randall Wheelan mi 

What 's the Joke ? (Illustrated from a photograph) Carolyn Wells 1089 

What 's the Use? Verse. (Illustrated by Edna Morse) Burgess Johnson 879 

When Stacie's Class was Graduated. (Illustrated) Laura Alton Payne 684 

Which Would You Choose ? Picture, drawn by Oliver Herford 735 

Who Can Tell? ■ 836 

Why Is It ? Jingle. (Illustrated by the Author) Anna B. Craig 792 

Willie on Classic Fiction. Verse Charles Noel Douglas 1028 

Window on the Stairs, The. Verse. (Illustrated by G. Ciani) Albert Bigelo%v Paine 742 

With the Birds in Autumn. (Illustrated by Alice Sargent) Ernest Lngersoll 1001 

Word Jingles George H. Valentine 838 


"The Gamekeeper's Daughter," by J. M. Gleeson, page 578 — "The Children Crowded around to See the 
Dog," by Ellen B. Thompson, page 674 — '" Now! ' whispered the Professor," by George Varian, page 770 — "So 
They Potter in their Garden till the Flowers Love to Grow," by Anna Wheelan Bettz, page 866 — "At the 
Spinet," from the painting by George Romney, page 962 — "A Musical Genius — the Pride of the Family," by 
George Varian, page 1058. 



St. Nicholas League. (Illustrated) 656, 752, 848, 944, 1040, 1 136 

Nature and Science. (Illustrated) 648, 744, 840, 936, 1032, 1128 

Books and Reading 668, 764, 860, 956, 1052, 1 148 

The Letter-box 670, 766, 862, 958, 1054, 1150 

The Riddle-box. (Illustrated) 671, 767, 863, 959, 1055, 1151 

Interscholastic Athletics 







Swift's Premium Hams and Bacon have the delicate flavor, 
inviting appearance, and easy-to-serve qualities which make them 
such popular dishes at this season of the year. Each piece is 
U. S. Government inspected. Sold by best dealers. 

Swift's Silver Leaf Lard — America's Standard. Attractively tinned in 
3, 5, and 10-pound air-tight pails. 

Kansas City Omaha St. Louis Swift C&, Company, Chicago St. Joseph St. Paul Ft. Worth 

[The entire contents of this Magazine are covered by the general copyright, and articles must not be reprinted without special permission. 


Frontispiece. The Gamekeeper's Daughter 578 

Drawn by J. M. Gleeson. 

The Gamekeeper's Daughter. Sketch J. M. Gleeson 579 

Illustrated by the author. 

A Little Gentleman. Verse Hannah G. Fernald 580 

"Remorse." Story Alice Gertrude Field 581 

Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. 

Picture. A May-time Portrait 587 

From a painting by Walter Russell. 

Hannibal. Sketch 588 

Illustrated by A. G. Dbring. 

Spring in the Valley. Verse Mary Austin 589 

Picture. Moving-Day in the Woods 590 

Drawn by E. Warde Blaisdell. 

"Dick" the Sea-Gull RJ.M 590 

Illustrated by M. J. Burns. 

In Chaucer's Youth. Story E. A Pennell 592 

Illustrated by B. J. Rosenmeyer. 

Dame Quigley's Glass. Verse Eva L. Ogden 596 

Illustrated by Fanny Y. Cory. 

The Baby's Name. Verse Tudor Jenks 600 

Picture. May-time Morning in Holland 600 

Training for Interscholastic Athletics. Second Article G. w. Orton 601 

Illustrated from photographs. 

Jo Jobson Gets a new Job. Verse R. F. Bunner 611 

Illustrated by the author. 

The Enchanted Globe. Verse Nina Moore Tiffany 612 

Illustrated by J. C. Beard. 

Strange Nest-Builders Allan Leigh 613 

Illustrated by J. C. Beard. 

The Difference. Verse Nell Kimberly McElhone 616 

Picture. A Merry Little Shepherdess 616 

The Story of King Arthur and his Knights. Serial Story Howard Pyle 617 

Illustrated by the author. 

Picture. The Bird's Breakfast 630 

Drawn by Margaret E. Webb. 

A Letter from Miss Alcott's Sister 631 

Pictures. The Russian Peasant and his Turnip 632 

The Dancing Class. Verse Esther H. staples 634 


Two of Johnny's Compositions Malcolm Douglas 636 

Illustrated by the author. 

Picture. To Let 636 

Drawn by Reginald Birch. 

A Condescension. Verse Helen s. Daley 637 

_ Illustrated by the author. 

The Artist, the Sparrow, and the Boy. Story John Y. Coryell 638 

Illustrated by Meredith Nugent. 

A Nonsense Calendar. May Carolyn Wells 641 

Illustrated by M. E. Leonard. 

A Family Measure-Board Theo. R. Davis 642 

Illustrated by the author. 

High Treason in the Nursery. Verses M. 0. Kobbe 645 

Illustrated by the author. 

Bubbles. Verse C. R. Hoagland 646 

_ Illustrated by F. Y. Cory. 

Picture. Spring Fashions 647 

Drawn by C. E. Connard. 
Picture. The Fairy Godmother 647 

Drawn by F. Y. Cory. 

Nature and Science for Young Folks 648 

Mysterious Spring Sounds — The Winner — Homes under the Bark— How Wood- 
chucks Climb Trees — The Meadow Lark — Preservation of the Mammoth— Chinese 

The St. Nicholas League. Awards of Prizes for Stories, Poems, 

Drawings, and Photographs 656 


Books and Reading 668 

Simplicity of Style— Time's Forelock— The Ruskin Essays— The Prize Topic for 
May — Reading with the Eyes Shut. 

The Letter-Box 670 

Riddle-Box 671 

Subscription price, $3.00 a year; single number, 25 cents. The half-yearly parts of ST. NICHOLAS end with 
the October and April numbers respectively, and the red cloth covers are ready with the issue of these numbers; price 50 cents, by mail, 
post-paid; the two covers for the complete volume, $1.00. We bind a.\\& furnish covers for 75 cents per part, or $1.50 for the com- 
plete volume. In sending the numbers to us, they should be distinctly marked with owner's name, and 54 cents (27 cents per part) 
should be included in remittance, to cover postage on the volume if it is to be returned by mail. Bound volumes are not exchanged 
for numbers. 

Persons ordering a change in the direction of Magazines must give both the old and the new address in full. No change can be 
made after the 5th of any month in the address of the Magazine for the following month. 

?JLLiAM C w C F 1 gg s "wok' r TH ; "sec y . THE CENTURY CO., Union Square, New York, N. Y. 

May, 1903. 

The Two Most 
Widely Read 
Books of 

By Alice 



Some of Mrs. Wiggs's Sayings 

" If you want to be cheerful, 
jes' set your mind on it an' do 

"Somehow, I never feel like 
good things b'long to me till I 
pass 'em on to somebody else." 

"It looks like ever'thing in 
the world comes right if we jes' 
wait long enough. " 

"I've made it a practice to put 
all my worries down in the bot- 
tom of my heart, then set on the 
lid an' smile." 


of tHe Cabbage Patch 



The simple secret of the success of Miss Alice Caldwell 
Hegan, who is now Mrs. Alice Hegan Rice, is that her work 
possesses to a singular degree that touch of nature which 
makes the whole world kin." — St. Louis Republic. 

" The humanity of Mrs. Wiggs goes straight from her 
heart to the reader's." 

— Albert Bigelow Paine, in the World 's Work. 

" If nobody knew Mrs. Wiggs what a treat it would be to the 
reviewer to introduce her; what a pleasure it would be to say 
that a new writer had been discovered who had something to 
say that would interest every man, woman and child that was 
born with a heart and a sense of humor." — Indianapolis Sentinel. 

"Mrs. Wiggs has taken as firm hold of adult minds as ever 
Santa Claus did of youthful ones. . . . Her courage, her simple, 
never-questioning faith, her ability to cope with and vanquish 
any difficulty, are all marvelous." — Minneapolis Tribune. 

" 'Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch' is a simple little tale 
most simply told, yet it has sold a quarter of a million copies; 
and ' Lovey Mary,' which is precisely the same kind of a book, 
will probably do quite as well. Why? Because 

these tales are permeated through and through with human 
interest. ... If one reads one and likes it he must read the 
other and he will not be disappointed." — The Reader. 

In pretty cloth binding, $1.00 each. 


When Patty Went 
to College J 


"One of the most delightful books of 

the Season." — Brooklyn Eagle. 

" The author gives us a picture of the 
typical college girl at a typical American 
college in a series of some fifteen very funny 

episodes/ — N. Y. Times Saturday Review. 

This book is a sketch of the lighter side of 
college life, and the central figure is " Patty," 
who is always doing the unusual and unex- 
pected. Patty is a most fascinating young 
woman, with resources that never fail her 
when in a scrape. Illustrated by C. D. Wil- 
liams. $1.50. 


A Comedy of 



Author of " Hugh Wynne," 
" Circumstance," etc. 

" It is sprightly, amusing and ingenious." 

N. Y. Herald. 

Dr. Mitchell is a man who can write more 
kinds of books than most authors. Here he 
has written a detective story — but one with a distinct psychological interest. 
The heroine has a real New England conscience ; a thief tries to filch her 
pocket-book from her hand-bag, and leaves a valuable diamond ring in it. 
Problem — what to do with the ring. Henry Hutt exquisitely illustrates it. 






sas* SHOES m^m^. 





Do you see the point ? 
"The little girl has new shoes" 
Yes ; but that is n't it. 
"She has SOROSIS shoes. 
That 's it." 

P. S. Where does Johnny come in ? Oh, 
he does n't come in at all. He 's ashamed to 
— he has n't got "Sorosis" shoes. He 's 

It 's a good point. 

No wonder she is so proud 
and happy that she pushes the 
point of her shoe right out of 
the picture! 

trying to hide one foot with the other. But 
he don't care ; he knows where he can get 






library, Univ. »f 
North C«io4w» 


Vol. XXX. 

MAY, 1903 

No. 7. 

By J. M. Gleeson. 

Mv face and hands were cooling in the 
limpid brook ; its babbling music filled me with 
delight. A little gray rabbit hopped out of the 
dense bracken and sat straight up to look wide- 
eyed at me. Gray, wet clouds were driving 
from time to time across the face of the purple 
hills, but the sun shone strong in the deep val- 
ley, where the little air that was stirring was 
moist and warm. 

I had been tramping through County Wick- 
low, Ireland, and as the miles reeled off, the 
world seemed very lovely. All the time the mis- 
chievous clear brook that kept the winding road 
company sang soft or rippling songs to me until 
at last I hearkened and was brought down; 
and, stretching myself at full length upon the 
bank, crushing the dark, thick green grass, I 
dipped my face in the brook, and cooled my 
wrists, and drank deeply of its sweet waters. 
And then it was that she came — the game- 

Copyright, 1903, by The Century Co 

keeper's daughter. How I had thrilled in the 
old boyhood days as I read of little Fritz, the 
forester's son, fowling-piece on shoulder and 
game-bag at his side ! and how my spirit had 
flown out of the window of the ugly little 
school-room, to wander with him through the 
dark forests where his father guarded the deer 
and wild boar for his princely master! And 
later, when the little school-house grew misty in 
the dim past, the forester's daughter, rosy of 
cheek and blithe of heart, took the place of 
little Fritz in my reading. I imagined her by 
the door of her father's white-washed, green- 
embowered cottage, one hand bent above her 
eyes as she scanned the wooded heights and 
listened for the deep music of the hounds, or as 
she stood among the foam-flecked horses, the 
dogs romping about her as she refreshed the 
tired hunters with great draughts of home- 
brewed ale. But in the fierce struggle of after 

All rights reserved. 

5 8o 


life all this had been put away from my 
thoughts and was forgotten like the childhood 
times of hobgoblins or steel-clad knights. 

And so it happened that as I lounged by 
the brookside and heard a voice, not unmu- 
sical, calling across the open, I started at the 
sound, sprang up and saw her, just as long 
years ago I had seen her in imagination — 
rosy of cheek and blithe of heart, a halo of fair 
hair about her head, a huge dish held at her 
side from which she dealt out food to great 
fat white ducks and monster gilded cocks and 
black-and-silver hens. And then, no less won- 
derful, there stepped out of the tall bracken 
a lovely creature with dappled coat and gentle, 
soft eyes — a Japanese hind, which, all un- 
afraid, trotted up and nuzzled at the dish, and 
begged prettily for a share of the golden 
grain. And a gust of wind came down from 
the fir-clad hills, bending the tall grass before 
the gamekeeper's daughter and rippling the 
yellow halo of her head. 

And there appeared, silent as ghosts, a herd of 
fallow deer on the edge of the deep-shadowed 
woods : splendid young bucks with horns still 
in velvet, soft and large; timid does watch- 
ing warily, one eye on the little long-limbed 
fawns. And the sun, filtering through the green 
leaves, touched here and there the tawny, spot- 
ted coats, turning them to gold. And presently 
two stags, proud of their newly grown antlers, 
stepped out from the herd into the sunlight, 
and approached with queer stiff-legged little 
steps, now holding the head high in royal pose, 
then lowering it with pointed muzzle and ears 
thrown forward, and always ready to spring 
away on the instant to the safety of the shadows 
and the company of the herd. 

And I saw all this and knew that it was not a 
dream, although it was as I had dreamed it long 
ago. And I felt that for those who could and 
would perceive, the world was nevermore beau- 
tiful, and all the dreams come true if only we 
would but open our eyes and see. 


I know a well-bred little boy who never says " I can't " ; 

He never says " Don't want to," or " You 've got to," or " You sha'n't ; 

He never says " I '11 tell mama ! " or calls his playmates " mean." 

A lad more careful of his speech I 'm sure was never seen! 

He 's never ungrammatical — he never mentions "ain't"; 
A single word of slang from him would make his mother faint! 
And now I '11 tell you why it is (lest this should seem absurd) : 
He 's now exactly six months old, and cannot speak a word ! 

Hannah G. Fernald. 

" Oh, Dorothy ! " called Jim, from his room. 

But above the clash of the duelists' rapiers 
on her page Dorothy was not able to hear, and 
she only crammed the book deeper into the 
cushions of the lounge and said, " Oo-oo-oo ! " 
in a shiver of excitement. 

Presently he called again : " Dearest cousin! " 

Her eyes brightened as she whipped over a 

Another pause, and then Jim stuck his head 
out of his door and looked down upon her 
where she sat curled on the hall floor, her 
elbows digging into the seat of the lounge and 
her fingers running madly through her pompa- 
dour. " Dot! " he exploded. 

" He 's killed him ! he 's killed him ! he 's 
dead ! " cried Dorothy, in a rapture of innocent 

" He 's not, either. He comes to life in the 
next chapter and behaves like kymo," said the 
superior Jim. 

" Don't tell me — don't! Oh, you mean thing! 
Well, what is it you want ? " This last because 
her cousin had quietly taken the book from her 
and was now sitting on it. 

" D' you chance to remember how much we 
paid for Grace's birthday present ? " 

" Four dollars." 

"Really? How nice! ' Picture for G. , four 
dollars.' " He began to scribble in a sad-look- 
ing little account-book, but paused at Dorothy's 
objection : " You did n't pay four. I paid my 

" Oh ! that 's so. Too bad. Four dollars 

would be a fine starter. See here, Dot, dad has 
called for my month's accounts and I 'm straight- 
ening 'em out. You '11 help a fellow ? " 

" Oh, yes." Dorothy was very amiable so 
long as her book served as throne for Jim. 
" How much out are you ? " 

" How much ? " This with some impa- 

" Yes. What do you have to account for ? " 

" My month's allowance, I told you ! " 

" But I mean — here, read me what you 've 

Jim, plainly annoyed at her stupidity, held the 
book aloft and read in a teasing tone, " ' Picture 
for G., two dollars,' " then stopped and looked 
quizzically at her over the top of the book. 

"Jim, I should think you 'd make up your 
mind to keep track as you go along." 

" So I did." 

" You did ? " 

" Certainly. Did that very thing. Had the 
usual scene with dad, came upstairs, sat down 
at my desk, made a good resolution that this 
time I would put down every blessed thing as I 
bought it, swelled with self-esteem, chucked the 
book into the back corner of my desk, and 
never thought another word about it from that 
day to this. Was ever a fellow so put upon ? 
There I was, with the best intentions in the 
world, and, as you see," — he threw out his 
hands, — " balked on every side ! " 

" You old goose ! And can't you remember 
a thing ? " 

" Yes," he replied after thinking a moment. 





" Yesterday I bought a postal card, and the 
day before some banjo strings." 

" Put them down quick ! Now try again." 

" It 's your turn." 

" Well, there was the dance, you know." 

" That 's so. How much ? " 

" One-ninety — no, one-eighty." 

" 'T is done. Go on." 

" It 's your turn." 

" I '11 give it to you. Please hurry." He 
waited with pencil uplifted and eying her 
closely. Each item as it fell from her lips was 
instantly noted in the book, and he was ready 
for another. 

" Did n't you have your wheel mended ? " 

" I did. How much ? " 

"/don't know. Fifty, perhaps." 

" Fifty. Go on." 

" No — wait. I remember; it was sixty-five." 

" Rectified. Sixty-five. Continue." 

" And — um — urn — you bought a new 

" That 's down. Go on." 

" Some golf-balls." 

" How many ? How much ? " 

" I don't know. Don't you ? " 

" Yes. What else ? " 

" Some car-fares, probably." 

" Probably. How many, should you guess ? " 

" Why, I have n't the faintest idea." 

" Call it seventy-five. Go on." 

" That tie you 're wearing." 

" Fifty. Go on." 

" Newspapers, maybe? " 

"There must have been. 'Papers, ten cents.' 
Go on." 

"But, Jim, I can't think of another thing!" 

An accusing silence followed, the pencil wig- 
gling impatiently in the air. " Really, Doro- 
thy," he complained, as she offered no further 
suggestions, " you must n't be so slow. Dad '11 
be crazy." 

" I '11 get my accounts, too ! " cried Dorothy, 
inspired, and returned in a minute with her 
neat, well-kept book, with the aid of which, 
and by dint of much brain-racking, they finally 
succeeded in getting an imposing list of items. 
Then came the balancing, a distressing matter. 

" You should have two sixty-three left. Have 
you got anywhere near that ? " asked Dorothy. 

He thrust a hand into his pocket, extracted 
one dime and one penny, and held them out 
on his palm, looking at her reproachfully. 

" What ! Only eleven cents ? Is that all ? 
Do we have to make up all the rest ? " 

"'Make up'! Indeed we won't, mademoi- 
selle. We '11 have to account for it." 


They went all through the list, revising prices, 
amending and re-amending, with occasional ap- 
peals to other authorities for greater accuracy 
— as when Jim flew down the back stairs to 
ask the cook what would be a likely price for 
bakers' crullers, or Dorothy manceuvered in the 
lower hall till she had enticed her aunt out of 
the library, only to demand of that astonished 
lady, " Quick, Aunt Mary ! Did Jim buy that 
belt last month or this ? " 

" Dorothy," called the dreaded uncle from 
the library, " what is that boy up to ? I told 
him to come down and show me his accounts." 

" Oh, he '11 be down presently, I guess," said 
Dorothy, and tore upstairs to report dolefully, 
"You got it last month, and uncle 's in a stew 
for you to come down." 

"Well, I'm in a stew, too! " said Jim, in a 
hurt tone. " Then I 'm still a dollar shy, Dot. 
How '11 I fix it ? " 

" Can't you think of anything you 're in the 
habit of getting ? " 

After reflection, he timidly suggested that 
perhaps he 'd had his skates sharpened ; but as 
it was May, they decided not to record that 

"However," he cried in triumph, "I did lend 
you forty cents ! " 

" But I paid you ! " 

" Well, I must have lost some," he continued. 
"Yes, I 'm sure of it. 'Lost, sixty cents.' There! 
That balances to a cent. How pleased and 
proud dad will be ! Thank you, Dot. Au 
revoir ! " 

Fifteen minutes later he came running back 
upstairs, to find his mother on the lounge with 
Dorothy, and down he sat between the two 
with a force that was positively unpardonable. 

" Would n't accept my accounts," he an- 
nounced indignantly. "Wanted dates. Dates! 
Ever hear anything more unreasonable ? As if 
I 'd sit down and make up a lot of bogus dates! 




Why, 't would be cheating/ What are you 
laughing at, mother ? " 

" Was I laughing ? I did n't mean to." 

" Well, would it be fair ? " 

" I suppose not." 

" Of course it would n't. And he pounced 
on that item 'bout Dot, and said, 'Mm I ' — no, 
not like that — ' Gmm/' — that 's more like it — 
you know the way he does — ' Gurrum / So you 
lent Dolly forty cents ? Did n't she pay you ? ' 
And I 'm such a guileless dunce I had to 
giggle right out, 'n' say, ' Course she did. She 
always does.' And then he said 'Gurrum' again, 
like the radiators when the steam 's coming into 
'em. And he fished out a bill from Bancroft's 
and stuck it under my nose. I thought that 
bill was paid ages ago! Pretty idea sending 
my bills to another man ! Why was n't it sent 
to me, I 'd like to know ? " 

" Why, it was, Jim ! " cried Dorothy of the 
accurate memory. " They sent it 'way back in 
March. Don't you remember ? " 

" No, I don't. Then why did n't they send 
it to me again ? " 

" Possibly they thought it more profitable to 
send it to your father," suggested Mrs. Say- 
brooke, mildly, and her son sniffed. 

"Well, he produced that and handed it out 
with such an air. He said, ' What do you 
make out of that ? ' I said I could n't see that 
I made anything ; I thought I had lost on it. 
He said, very impressive-like, ' No, I am the 
loser,' and I said, ' All the better,' and then he 
sailed into me. The usual oration, you know : 
wasteful habits — ignorance — value of money 
— not grudging me all I wanted — only I 
should n't waste it, till finally he ended by say- 
ing the only way to keep me from wasting 
money was not to give me any to waste, and I 
could n't have any allowance at all this month I 
Now ! " 

" Whew ! " said his listeners. 

"I almost hated dad for that!" — with a 
vengeful click of his teeth. 

" Oh, no, you did n't, Jim ! " his mother pro- 
tested, turning to look at her son. 

He considered. " Well, no ; no, I did n't hate 
him; but," with sudden animation, "I wish I 
had hated him ! " 

" But I '11 fix him," he prophesied direfully. 

" You '11 see ! " After prolonged mental search 
for a means of bothering his father, he struck 
his knee in a rapture. " I 've got it ! I '11 be- 
have ! How that will faze him ! " And he 
retired happily to bed, hugging to his bosom 
the thought of his sinister revenge. 

For a time his plan worked beautifully, and 
Mr. Saybrooke, coming out of his room the 
following morning, was startled and gratified to 
have his neck caught in a strangling if affec- 
tionate clasp while a jovial voice sang, " Hello, 
old blessing ! " in his ear. Before leaving for 
his business the stern father had proffered a 
handful of car tickets, and in the course of the 
next few days the culprit's mother employed 
him on various odd tasks and errands, these 
little expedients saving him from absolute pen- 
ury, although living was nevertheless a serious 
problem. Still the stricken one waked with an 
incipient grin trembling on his mouth, went to 
bed with a giggle, and was all through the day 
" the sweetest little being ever walked on two 
legs," as he confidentially informed his cousin, 
adding that he could " feel the improvement 
sticking out all over him like quills upon the 
fretful porcupine." 

But Jim was human — very — and this do- 
cility could not last. One evening the exaspe- 
rations of his impecunious state affected the boy's 
temper; he found relief in waxing riotous, and 
a paternal summons was quite disregarded as 
Jim raced noisily upstairs, drowning entreaties 
and commands in a merry catch trolled at the 
top of his lungs. 

Mr. Saybrooke followed, clutching his paper. 
All was quiet on the second floor, and after 
calling in vain the harassed gentleman flung 
himself into an arm-chair in the sitting-room 
and tried to comfort himself with the stock re- 
ports. He was half-way down the column when 
a far-away voice called, " Whoop .' " 

" James, come here." 

A head protruded from behind a corner of 
a bookcase and an anxious voice inquired, 
" Daddy dear, did you say, ' All 's out 's in 
free?' " 

" I said, ' Touch home for Jim Saybrooke.' 
Come out here." 

He came, finger in mouth and dragging a 
reluctant foot. " Am I ' it ' ? " 

;8 4 



" You are. Does n't your conscience prick, 
old man ? " 

" No sir; it claws." 

" It does, does it ? Good enough ! Go to 
your room and let it claw — no; go up to the 
loft and wait for me. Now, march ! " 

Click ! went Jim's heels, up flew his hand in 
a military salute, and as he about-faced and 
marched off his father called after him, laugh- 
ing, "Remember, now! just give yourself up to 

As Jim passed out of the door he was unaffect- 
edly sorry for his misbehavior, and grieved that 
he had not consistently carried out his scheme 
of revenge. When he reached the stair-foot he 
was grieving that his evening must be wasted, 
and as he opened the door of the loft, or club- 
room which was the property of Dorothy, him- 
self, and six kindred spirits, he was already 
planning what he would do when released. 

But in the meantime he must find some occu- 
pation, and having lighted the lamp, he cast a 
searching eye about the big, oddly decorated 
room. What were those sheets of paper scat- 
tered on the piano ? Why, surely, that two- 
step he was composing ! He bore down upon 
the papers, gathered them together, and, putting 
on the soft pedal, played his composition over 
with increasing satisfaction. It was better than 
he had supposed. That place that had n't 
pleased him before — well, it was n't quite right, 
but he seemed almost to hear how it should go. 
Let 's see, now. The sheets of scribbled music 
were disregarded, and Jim's fingers wandered 
experimentally over the keys. Gradually, bit 
by bit, the thing came to him until he almost — 
not quite — wait — no — ah, good! and with a 
little squeal of triumph the inspiration came, 
and he bent over the keys delightedly, pound- 
ing out the desired chords. That was good — 
that certainly was good. He pounced on his 
score, smudging out the old notes and writing 
in the new. Those bars were repeated farther 
on ; he looked for the place and made his cor- 
rection. Now ! He 'd play the whole thing 
over. He did, looking happier every minute. 
"Hooray! That sounds O.K. ! I believe that 's 
not half bad!" he cried, flirting ten gifted fin- 
gers in the air; and then, forgetting caution, he 
pressed the loud pedal and sailed into his two- 

step so vigorously that the room rang with the 
lively air. The last chords sounded with a 
superb crash, and, with his hands still resting 
on the keys, he drew a long, happy sigh. 

"James," said a quiet voice. 

If Mr. Saybrooke wished to startle his son, he 
must have been satisfied with the jump that 
young gentleman gave. Recovering himself, 
" Did you hear my two-step, dad?" he inquired 
excitedly, adding, "/did n't hear yours ! " 

" I am not deaf," said dad, with crushing 

Jim smiled. "Let me play it to you again!" 
he begged, fingering his music longingly. 

" No, I thank you. James, do you happen 
to remember why I sent you up here ? " 

" Yes," said Jim, leaving the piano and walk- 
ing toward his father. " I was bad. That was 

" What did I tell you to do ? " 

" You said I was to give myself up to re- 
morse." He attempted to get his hands on 
those broad, unbending shoulders, but without 

" And this is the way you do it ? " 

Jim hesitated a minute, looking from his 
father's severe face toward the piano and back 
again. Then he suddenly fled to his seat, 
caught up his stubby little pencil, and drove 
it wildly across the top of the first sheet of 
music. Gathering the rumpled pages together, 
he rose and presented them to his parent with 
a polite bow. Glancing down, Mr. Saybrooke 
read in great black letters : 

"I am glad to know," he said, "that you 
obey me so literally. Now please go to bed." 

The boy obeyed. The father's unusally 
stern manner prevented his asking for his two- 
step back, though he looked at it, tightly rolled 
in Mr. Saybrooke's hand, with infinite wistful- 
ness. " P'r'aps he '11 give it to me in the 
morning," he thought hopefully, saying good 
night in the hall. In the morning Mr. Say- 
brooke seemed not to know that such things as 
two-steps existed; and oh, crowning anguish, 




though he searched into the most remote corners 
of his brain and nearly demolished the piano, Jim 
could not recall that particular little strain with- 
out which his whole composition was as naught. 

Time passes, even for the poverty-stricken, 
and at last only one week remained before allow- 
ance-time. But such a week ! A ball-game, a 
Dutch-treat lawn dance, 
and a concert, not one 
of which Jim felt that 
he could miss, and yet 
he had funds for only 
one half of one! He 
was thinking mournfully 
of these facts, one even- 
ing when he strolled in 
to dinner, and was pretty 
silent, till his father came 
in a few minutes later 
and handed him a roll 
of music, with the ex- 
planation, " I was pass- 
ing Damon's to-day, and 
noticed that they had 
some new music in the 
window, so I brought 
you home a bunch of 
jigs, kid." Pleasant 
things do sometimes 
happen, it seemed, even 
to persons who had to 
economize, and the 
" kid " brightened, ac- 
cepted his jigs gratefully, 
with a hearty "Thank 
you, dad ! " and glanced 
them over, trying the 
opening bars in a re- 
pressed whistle, unre- 
proved by his mother. 

" That last march of Norton's," he murmured. 
" Glad to have that — good as any he 's written, 
/think. Hello ! here 's something that '11 just suit 
you, Dot. A song of De Camp's, all about apple- 
blossoms and sunshine and fat little girls with 
dimples. No, I don't mean anything personal. 
Don't get mad. I like the looks of it, myself. 
What 's this ? Oh, dad! you know I loathe that 
thing. I shall take it back and exchange it for 

something good, you old smarty. Well, let 's 
see how this goes. . . . Humph! Why — 
what ! " 

He had whistled the first bars, looked puz- 
zled, glanced at the title, and then given a yell 
of astonishment. 

Like lightning he slapped over the page and 
stared at the gorgeous red-and-black cover. No, 


there was no mistake. Dorothy, peeking over 
his shoulder, read in a megaphone voice : 



j. c. 


" What is it ? 
did n't write it ? 

What J. C. Saybrooke ? 
' demanded his mother. 


5 86 


Jim, after hopping up and giving one little 
prance of delight, rolled the music into a speak- 
ing-tube and telephoned across the table in 
hollow tones : 

" Dad ! Explain ! " 

The young composer's cheeks were about as 
pink and his eyes as bright as they well could 
be ; but when his father placed a check on the 
waitress's tray and ceremoniously directed, 
" Take it to Mr. James," he became a little more 
bewildered and enraptured than before. 

" Thir — ty — -five ! " he said in hushed accents. 
" Dad, you 've got to tell what it 's all about." 

Thus coerced, Mr. Saybrooke produced a 
letter and handed it to his wife, who mercifully 
relieved the curiosity of the family by reading 
aloud at once : 

H. Broughton, 
Music Publisher. 

May 9, . 

My dear Mr. Saybrooke : Yours of the 8th inst. 
received, and I hasten to assure you that I have not for- 
gotten your name, your face, nor your old-time character- 
istic of being ever anxious to help out the under dog. 
In this last particular your letter proves that you can 
have changed little since the days of Sheldon School. 
Glad as I should be to do an old school-mate a favor, it 
is entirely contrary to my custom to buy and publish any 
inferior music, for reasons of personal interest; there- 
fore when I tell you that I will print the two-step you 
forwarded you will understand that it is solely on the 
merits of the composition itself that it is accepted. It 
has a swing and spirit that will make it popular, I be- 
lieve, and is, moreover, distinctly original. Your young 
protege has talent and should cultivate it. But why the 
singular title? I presume you have no objection to the 
substitution of one more suitable. If you will let me 
know the name of the composer I will at once forward 

the payment and bring out the two-step. Believe me, 

dear sir, heartily glad to be able to oblige an old friend. 


Herbert Broughton. 

Only Jim seemed unimpressed by this sur- 
prising epistle ; and he tore around the table to 
his somewhat embarrassed parent. "And then 
daddy had to own up ! " he chuckled, stran- 
gling his sire with the right arm. " Had to own 
up that it was n't anybody but bad little Jimmy, 
that he was the needy young ' composer,' " — 
change to the left arm, — "and that the only 
reason Jimmy was needy was that his daddy 
had cabbaged his pennies," hugging with both 
arms now. " Say, I can go to the concert and 
the ball-game and the dance too, can't I ? 
Hooray! Great Caesar! I can't decide whether 
to sit down and eat, or go and play you 
' Remorse ' — I 'm so glad you did n't let him 
change the name ! " 

They finally persuaded him that eating was 
the thing to do ; but in the first wait between 
courses he hied himself to the music-room and 
gave them " Remorse " in his very best man- 
ner. When he returned, Dorothy, who was n't 
musical but had some little skill with her pen, 
was declaring, " It would make a lovely moral 
tale. I mean to write it up and see if /can't 
earn thirty-five dollars." 

" So it would," said her aunt, encouragingly. 
" You 'd better try it, dear." 

But Jim, with a saucy but fond glance at his 
father, murmured, " The moral is all right, dad. 
I 'm going to save most of this money, and I '11 
keep account of every penny of it!" 














I am " Hannibal," of Cage No. i in the lion- 
house, New York Zoological Park. In choos- 
ing " Sultan " and me as the chief attractions of 
this collection of lions, tigers, leopards, jaguars, 
chetahs, and pumas, the Zoological Society has 
done well. I am the gift of one of the greatest 
living givers of good things, Mr. Andrew Car- 
negie, a king in his own right, with a crown of 
good deeds. 

This is my picture; and Sultan is the only 
lion who says it flatters me. As you see, this 
ruff of tawny yellow-and-brown hair framing 
my face is fifteen inches wide ; and the heavy 
fringe along my sides, and my huge tail-tuft, 
are such as are given — in my country — only to 
kings of my race. Yes, I know Sultan is a little 
larger than I am, and some of the artists praise 
his form ; but the real glory of a lion is his hair. 

Yes, I am glad at last to be really settled in 
life. My days in fear of the hunters' rifles, and 
my long journeys in small, dark cages in bad- 
smelling ships are now over. I like this place 

immensely, and will travel no more. This 
floor of maple wood, these walls of jungle-green 
tiling, and that frieze of desert-and-palm tiling 
are very much to my mind. The sleeping-dens 
are a trifle cool, but the Zoo people say my 
lungs will be all the better for that. The steps 
to the balcony are so high it is laborious to 
climb them, but the view from the gallery 
above is worth the effort. 

My mate, " Cleopatra," is very handsome, 
and is very sweet-tempered — for a lioness. 

Am I appreciated here ? Dear me, yes. 
Half the visitors ask for me, and all of them 
admire me. Even a lion likes to be appreci- 
ated. Many times a day I roar my complaints 
to the People in Front, and when Sultan, Cleo- 
patra, and Bedouin Maid join me, the whole 
building trembles and everybody stops to listen. 
This is the best building to roar in that I ever 
tried. A good roar every half-hour or so keeps 
a lion from getting lonesome ; but men who try 
it for amusement generally get into trouble. 


By Mary Austin. 

When the catkin 's on the willow 
And the tassel on the birch, 

The wild bees from the hiving rocks 
Begin their honey search. 

Brown wings among the browner grass 

And breast all brightening yellow — 
Pipes up from meadows as we pass 

The lark's call, clear and mellow; 
Now wakes the burnished dragonfly 

Beside the glinting river, 
That shakes with silent laughter where 

The iris banners quiver ; 
Now on the budding poplar boughs 

The tuneful blackbirds perch : 

For the catkin 's on the willow 
And the tassel on the birch. 

Now stalks the solemn crow behind 

The farmer in the furrow; 
The downy owl comes out at dusk 

And hoots beside his burrow. 
Now blows a balmy breath at morn 

To call men to the sowing; 
Now all the waterways are full, 

And all the pastures growing ; 
Now truant anglers drop a line 

To catfish and to perch: 
For the catkin 's on the willow 

And the tassel on the birch. 



landlady: yes; we have a couple of nice light rooms on the third floor. 
MRS. woodchuck: have n't you anything in the basement? my husband is afraid 
of fire and will not go up so high. 


By P. J. M. 

Out in the ocean, about four miles off the 
shore of Rhode Island and just south of Narra- 
gansett Bay, is anchored Brenton's Reef Light- 
ship. Some thirty-two years ago the lonely 
watchers on the ship had their attention at- 
tracted by a sea-gull that so far put aside his 
wild nature as to swim close to the vessel in 
search of food. The friendliness and the trust- 
fulness of the bird immediately won the hearts 
of the keepers, and soon he was supplied with 

all the food he wanted. Not only this but 
every day, without a break, the bird, which 
by this time the men had named " Dick," came 
back, and just as regularly was he supplied. 
This soon grew into a habit ; and the prepara- 
tion of Dick's allowance became one of the 
cook's fixed duties. 

There would have been nothing very re- 
markable in a wild sea-fowl following an in- 
stinct that led it to repeat a search for food so 



regularly and so bountifully successful, were it not 
for its later history. One day near the 1st of the 
first April following Dick's appearance at the 
light-ship, he was missed, and was not seen 
again until about the 1st of the next October, 
when the same programme of daily feeding 
was resumed and kept up as during the pre- 
vious year. Then, as the 1st of April drew 
near, Dick would again take himself off to his 
summer home, wherever that might be, only 
faithfully to return with the following October. 

This repeated going and coming, with the 
constant round of daily feeding, was kept up for 
twenty -four consecutive years j and Captain Ed- 
ward Fogarty, in charge of the light-ship, writes 
to us that the last seen of the old fellow was in 
April, 1895, when, according to his custom, he 
left for his summer vacation, but, for the first 
time in twenty-four years, failed to return the 
next October. 

What became of him no one knows. His 
great age may have so enfeebled him that he 
was unequal to the long flight to and from his 
unknown summer home. He may have chosen 
to stay there, or he may have died of old age. 

It was noticed by the ship's keepers that 
during his last visit Dick plainly showed the 
effects of his increasing years, and that he 
was no longer able to hold his own with the 
other gulls in maintaining his exclusive right 
to the bounty thrown out from the light-ship. 

The Smithsonian Institution knew the his- 
tory of Dick's visits, and was desirous of ob- 
taining his remains when he died; but, while 
it is possible that in his later life he might 
have been captured and forced to end his days 
on shipboard, there was not one on board the 
light-ship so false as to make the attempt or to 
permit it in others. 

The reports of Dick's arrival and departure 
were faithfully recorded by the captain in his 
ship's records as if they were an important item 
of marine news; and in the neighborhood of 
Newport, at least, he was as well known a char- 
acter as any pet elephant or monkey within the 
safe confines of a zoological garden is to the 
girls and boys in the cities. Dick's cage and 
playground was the whole Atlantic Ocean, if 
he had wished, but he was faithful to the friends 
whom he had always found faithful to him. 


On a fresh, sweet morning of May, in 1359, 
a gay company of lords and ladies might have 
been seen cantering out of the little English 
town of Reading. Their merry chatter and 
laughter mingled musically with the bird-notes 
that tinkled through the morning air; and the 
brilliant coloring of their attire seemed to vie 
with the glory of the early sunbeams and the 
dewy, flowery meadows along the way. One 
might readily know this was a royal party, for 
the warlike figure at the head was unmistakably 
that of King Edward III. Close beside him 
rode the Black Prince on his black charger. 
Following them rode the Queen and her ladies ; 
Prince John and his pretty girl-bride, Blanche ; 
Prince Lionel and Elizabeth ; and the two 
young princes, Edmund of Langley and 
Thomas of Woodstock. After these came a 
score or two of attendants — knights and ladies, 
squires and pages. 

Conspicuous among the latter was Eliza- 
beth's young favorite, Geoffrey Chaucer, who 
in later life became one of the greatest of Eng- 
land's poets. 

Evidently he was the favorite of others be- 
sides the countess; for, as he cantered along on 
his sleek little palfrey in the midst of his com- 
panions, he was telling them tale after tale, and 
constantly provoking bursts of laughter by his 
quaint jokes and gestures. Now and then he 
fell behind, and, riding close to the hedges that 
bordered the road on either side, plucked a 
blossom or two to toss into the lap of some 

smiling maiden ; or, growing more bold, he 
plaited for his fair mistress a tiny wreath of 
daisies, to him the dearest, daintiest flowers of 
the field. More than once, too, he was sum- 
moned to the side of Prince John, whom he 
had met at Hatfield the previous year, and 
who, always a friend to the boy, was afterward 
the best patron of the poet. 

Even without the entertainment that Chau- 
cer furnished, the whole party had cause to be 
merry. Only the day before, the Sabbath bells 
had called them to the Benedictine Abbey of 
Reading to witness the wedding of Prince John 
and Blanche, Duchess of Lancaster ; and now 
they were hastening to London to spend the 
week in public games and all sorts of merry- 
making at court. 

The pleasure of anticipation rang in their 
voices as they talked of the feasting and dan- 
cing in prospect, and in every group there was 
a ripple of new enthusiasm when one men- 
tioned the festivities of Thursday. On that 
day there was to be famous jousting. Her- 
alds had proclaimed throughout the country 
for miles around that a tournament would be 
held, in which the Mayor of London, with the 
sheriffs and aldermen, would undertake to hold 
the field against all brave knights who might 
accept the challenge. 

This was the event of the week, not only to 
the pleasure-loving nobility, but to the city and 
country folk as well. Everywhere were signs 
of preparation for the coming holiday. In the 



■BH towns through which the highroad 
\ I / ran. and in the streets of London, 
were displayed the colors and em- 
blems of favorite knights, or the arms of the city 
of London, according to the sympathies of the 

At the castle on the morning of the gala-day 
all was bustle and excitement, and at an early 
hour the train of courtiers and ladies was on the 
road again, considerably larger and no less 
merry than before. Bustle and excitement 
reigned, too, in the streets of the surrendered 
city as they passed through. On all sides were 
people on foot and people on horseback, — " pe- 
ple poore and peple riche," as Chaucer re- 
marked, — all of them in exuberant spirits, and 
all going one way. 

Not far outside the city the royal party came 
to the place where the lists had been prepared 
for the jousting. It was then a " fair large 
place " called Crownfield, but is now known as 
Cheapside. Here they found a host of eager 
spectators already in their places — a motley 
crowd of villagers and city people in the lower 
tiers of seats, and above them the gentry and 
the lesser nobility, filling the galleries to over- 
flowing. In the middle of one side was a cov- 
ered balcony hung with purple and white, the 
colors of the royal bridal party. Hither the 
ladies and guests of the court were conducted, 
amid the enthusiastic greetings of the assem- 
blage, which rang out again and more cheerily 
than ever when Lady Blanche took her place 
on the daintily cushioned throne prepared for 
the Queen of Love and Beauty. The childish 
Vol. XXX.— 75-76. 

sweetness of her face was dignified 
by her crown of pearls and ame- 
thysts; and her fair hair fell in long 
plaits adown her robe of royal purple bordered 
with ermine and gleaming silver. On the front 
of her pure white gown of sendal was broidered 
the crest of her husband, Prince John. Around 
her sat the ladies of the court, and her father, 
Henry of Lancaster, with King John of France, 
and many of his nobles, Edward's prisoners at 

A splendid sight met their eyes as they 
glanced around the vast inclosure. Over the 
rough framework of the galleries hung rich 
tapestries of many hues, forming a background 
for the banners of the contending knights. 
The peasantry and gentry wore colors and 
shades as varied as their rank ; while the lus- 
trous crimsons and blues of the velvet gowns 
of the nobility were relieved by the spotless 
white and the heavy gold trimmings of the 
ladies' coverchiefs. Below in the lists were 
sergeants-at-arms " priking up and doun " to 
keep order in the eager crowds; and heralds 
stood ready to announce the beginning of the 

" Daughter," said Duke Henry, after a few 
minutes' enjoyment of the scene, fascinating 
though familiar as it was, " methinks the people 
waxeth impatient of our delay." 

Lady Blanche signaled to the heralds with 
her slender scepter, the trumpets sounded 
merrily, and the gates at either end of the lists 
were thrown open. Twenty-four knights, well 
mounted and armor-clad, entered through each 





gateway in double rank. They advanced 
slowly into the ring to allow their squires and 
pages to find place behind them. The excite- 
ment was visibly increasing throughout the 
rows of spectators. In the balcony it was no 
less intense. 

" By my halidom ! " exclaimed King John 
of France, looking where the shields bearing 
the arms of the city ®f London showed the 
position of the mayor and his staff, " they are 
a warlike company ! Those young knights, 
whoever they be, must bear themselves well if 
they would win." 

The contestants were now drawn up ready 
for the fray. On one side were the mayor and 
the four sheriffs, protected on the flanks by 
seven of the aldermen, and in the rear by the 
remaining twelve. On the opposite side were 
the twenty-four knights who had first presented 
themselves in answer to the challenge of the 
mayor, each one eager to show his prowess be- 
fore the lady whose scarf he wore. 

A second time the trumpets sounded, and the 
heralds proclaimed the rules of the tourney. 
The weapons allowed were the lance and the 
sword, the latter to be used only to strike, not 
to thrust. A knight unhorsed or forced back 
to his own end of the lists was considered van- 
quished. A conquering knight might be forced 
to face two or three assailants at a time, but in 
that case a second sword would be allowed him. 

Again the trumpets rang out " loude and 
clarioun," and the heralds cried, " Do now 
your devoir /" Instantly the front ranks met 
with a tremendous shock in the center of the 
lists. The people gazed breathlessly at the 
dust-enveloped mass to distinguish the victors. 

" The mayor conquers ! " shouted many 
voices, as his opponent was seen to be unhorsed 
and declared vanquished. Several other 
knights were rolling in the dust under their 
horses' feet. Reinforcements from the second 
ranks were joining in the strife, but the victory 
was plainly with the mayor's side before the 
heralds' " Ho ! " recalled the knights to their 

In the second and third encounters the sheriff, 
whose place was at the mayor's left, was easily 
the victor, as again and again he drove an 
enemy back, back to the opposite gate. The 

interest of the spectators was centered on him, 
and prophecies of yet another victory were made. 

In the fourth encounter, however, he lost his 
lance and was obliged to draw his sword. Now 
he was gaining ground again, when two knights 
came to the aid of his opponent. For a few 
moments longer the young sheriff held his own 
bravely, wheeling his horse around, striking 
now here, now there, and parrying the blows 
of his assailants with consummate skill. But 
by an unlucky stroke his steel snapped. He 
was lost ! Already his antagonists were forcing 
him back and demanding surrender. Suddenly 
a page dashed to his side, pressed a fresh blade 
into his hand, and swiftly withdrew. With re- 
newed vigor the sheriff defended himself. The 
outcome of the contest was very doubtful. 
Then all at once victory was assured when by a 
few masterful strokes he scattered his enemies 
and stood alone, the conqueror of the day. 

" The voice of peple touchede the hevene " 
as all recognized his prowess. Amid cheers 
and confused shouts of " Largesse ! Largesse ! " 
and the blare of trumpets, the heralds led him 
to the foot of the balcony, where the Queen of 
the Tourney stood ready to give him the victor's 
crown. The ceremony was interrupted by .cries 
of "Unmask! unhelmhim!" The sheriff obeyed 
the demands of the people, removed his helmet, 
and revealed — the face of Prince John of 
Gaunt ! Before the lusty cheers that greeted 
him had begun to subside, the mayor and his 
comrades entered the lists again, and, saluting 
the Queen, uncovered their heads. The mayor 
was transformed into King Edward, the three 
remaining sheriffs into the eider princes, and 
the aldermen into well-known lords. 

Cheer after cheer arose, and mingled with 
shouts of " God save such a king ! " were heard 
cries of " The page ! " " Bring out the page ! " 
And, with slow step and downcast eyes, Geof- 
frey Chaucer was led before the throne. 

That night, while the stars blinked sleepily 
before the brightness of the perfect moon, 
young Chaucer stood long by his open window. 
His mind's eyes were looking far into the fu- 
ture, when he should be in the wars — perhaps 
a squire of the King himself; for that evening 
had seen him made squire to Prince Lionel, 
and a firmer friend than ever to Prince John. 


By Eva L. Ogden. 

See-saw, Margery Dawe 
Sold her bed and slept on straw, 
Sold the straw and slept on grass, 
To buy herself a looking-glass .' 

Margery darling, Margery Dawe, 

What was it you thought or dreamed you saw 

In that quaint old, worn old looking-glass, 

That you gave up your couch and slept on the grass, 

To purchase that ancient looking-glass? 

Was it set with diamonds, or rubies, or pearls, 
That the fairest of all the Puritan girls 
Sold her great four-poster hung with chintz 
(Never such goods before or since!) 
Only to buy that queer old glass 
And watch her shadow across it pass? 

Nay ; this is the legend that floated to me 
From a little old town at the edge of the sea ; 
With it a handful of fragrant grass 
And the empty frame of a looking-glass. 


Massive and stern, hard-featured and brown, 
Dame Quigley dwelt in the old shore town. 
Her back was broad, and her will was strong; 
Not even the judge dared do her wrong! 

One day the town burned witches ten, 
And when it was over, went women and men 
To their darkened homes with one accord, 
Marveling much at the ways of the Lord. 


Dame Quigley sat in her own south door 

As the long procession wound up from the shore. 

About her the fragrant, blossoming grass, 

At her feet an ancient looking-glass, 

She sat in the sun to watch them pass. 



And she mocked them bitterly, crying : " Come see 
Yourselves as ye look to the Lord and me! 
In the still, strange depths of this mirror old 
Naught but the truth may any behold. 

If a man lead the life that a man should lead, 
True and just to his neighbor in word and deed, 
His face shall look back, his form shall pass 
Over this searching looking-glass. 


But cruel and unjust let him be, 

No sign of face or form shall he see ; 

Sunlit sky and wave-green grass 

Are all that will show in the looking-glass! 

Burners of women, behold and see! 

Ye are naught, ye are naught to the Lord and me ! 

Squire and parson, clerk and judge, 
Dame of degree and household drudge, 
They who prated of doing the Lord's good will, 
And yet could be cruel and unjust still, 

With scornful mien, or with angry eye, 

Gazed each in the mirror as each passed by. — 

Sunlit sky and blossoming grass 

Were all that showed in the looking-glass! 




Then the voice of the dame rose shrill and high 
As the long procession wound slowly by : 
" ' Ye who perverted my merciful word 

Have cast yourselves out of my world,' saith the Lord." 

That very night, as the sun went down, 
She shook from her feet the dust of the town ; 
The judge in his gateway watched her pass, 
And she curtsied, and left him the looking-glass! 

Now this is the reason that Margery Dawe 
Gave up her couch for a bed of straw, 
Sold the straw and slept on the grass, 
To buy for her soul that looking-glass. 


By Tudor Jenks. 

What should we name our baby ? 

We gathered a score of books, 
Consulted grandparents, uncles, and aunts, 

Considered the baby's looks. 

Some were " too high-sounding," 
Others were thought " too tame " ; 

Some did not seem " quite fitting," 
None was the "just right" name. 

We did n't like ''■ Zephaniah " 
Or " Matthew " or " Theodore " ; 

We looked through the family Bible, 
We discussed a hundred or more. 

What should we call the baby ? 

We argued it, pro and con, 
Till at last we reached a final choice, 

And we called the baby John. 



(Second Article.) 

By G. W. Orton. 



This was a world's record at the time. Note the elevation he has attained, though he has just left the take-off. 
Note also the manner in which the arms are balancing and aiding his body. 


Every school-boy thinks that he can broad- 
jump, and so he can to a certain degree. But 
this event is one which should be gone at sys- 
tematically to get the best results. The jumper 
should first carefully notice his stride on going 
up to the take-off, so that he can mark off a 
distance (say 25 yards back), and by stepping 
on this mark with one of his feet as he runs 
by he will be sure to strike the take-off 
when he comes to it. The jumper cannot be 
sure of getting his best efforts into his jump un- 
less he is practically sure of hitting the take-off. 
After this has been acquired, the athlete can 
get to work. In this run the jumper's highest 

speed should be reached at about 10 or 12 
feet before the take-off, so that he can gather 
himself for the jump. After leaving the take- 
off he should shoot out and up. He must 
have elevation or his efforts will be in vain. 
He should go into the air at an angle of at 
least 45 degrees. A good way to get this ele- 
vation is by placing a hurdle in the jumping- 
pit and jumping over it. The jumper should 
gather himself together as he goes through the 
air, and at the finish, just before alighting, he 
should force himself on by a spasmodic effort 
with his arms and body. The legs should also 
be held forward so that they will strike the 
ground at the farthest possible distance. Prac- 
tice will show how far out the feet can be 





thrown without the athlete's falling back into 
the pit. It must be remembered that the 
greater the speed the farther out the feet can 
be thrown with safety. A great deal of prac- 
tice is necessary to become a good broad 
jumper, but this is an event which it is not well 
to practise too frequently, as it is very hard on 
the legs. The broad jumper will therefore not 
expect to get at his best during his first season. 
After the jumper by long practice has acquired 
his form in getting the take-off and his elevation 
after leaving the take-off, he should not practise 
more than three times a week; and when he is 
getting into fine shape he should do his very 


High jumping has made great progress dur- 
ing the last few years, due to a greater attention 
to form. " Mike " Sweeney, the holder of the 
world's record, and I. K. Baxter, the amateur 
world's champion, are the best exponents of 
this sport. They have both reduced high jump- 
ing to a science, and by employing their methods 
a jumper can get the best results. The run 
from the side and the simple scissors style of 
high jumping — throwing one foot over and 
then the other — have been relegated to the 
past. Now the best high jumpers go at the 


Note the way the legs are thrown out. It looks as if he would fall back into the jumping-pit, but his momentum will send him forward. 
This jump was taken when Kraenzlein made his then (1898) world's record of 24 feet 7^ inches. 

best but seldom, as this event is one that is lia- 
ble to leave strained tendons. 

The jumper should train for speed, which 
is a prime necessity. In addition to this he 
should also train regularly as a sprinter, direc- 
tions for which were given last month. 

bar almost directly from the front, or even 
directly. After leaping from the ground a half- 
turn is made in the air, so that when the height 
of the bar is reached the jumper has his side 
to it. When rising to the bar the forward leg 
is thrown high into the air to clear the bar, and 






Note the elevation and the manner in which the arms are used to balance the body in its flight through the air. 

the shoulders are thrown back and the arms up 
and out to aid the rise, the other foot being 
kicked into the air at the same time. The re- 
sult is that the body is thrown out of the way, 
the legs escape the bar by the scissors move- 
ment mentioned above, and the jumper gener- 
ally alights with his face to the bar. This is 
the style of Baxter, Sweeney, Spraker, Jones, 
W. Bryd Page, and J. D. Windsor, the best 
high jumpers that we have ever had. 

The object of going straight at the bar, or 
nearly so, is to use all the muscles in jumping 
from the ground, which is impossible under the 
old style. The young jumper should practise 
at a low height until he first of all masters the 
turn as he rises to the bar. This must be 
timed very nicely, or one leg or the other will 
hit the bar, no matter how high the body 
may be. The turn must be learned before 
anything else is done. Then the jumper can 
pay all attention to the swinging of the feet 
over the bar. If the forward foot is brought 

up smartly and the other follows with a sort of 
jerk, the body will be thrown into the air and 
the height attained will be greater. After learn- 
ing the first movements, namely, the turn and 
the scissors-like movement of the legs over the 
bar, the jumper should then try to get more aid 
from his body and arms. Baxter is the best 
example of this. He uses the waist or the 
middle of the back as a sort of fulcrum. By 
practice he has gained almost perfect control 
of his body while in the air, and he thus aids 
himself in getting over the bar. Baxter is the 
most economical jumper that we have; that 
is, he can clear a greater height in proportion 
to the natural spring in him than any other 
jumper: and he does this because of the manner 
in which he throws his feet after leaving the 
ground, and especially because of the great 
upward drive he gets through throwing the 
shoulders back just at the right moment. 

As already has been stated, the young 
jumper will do well to aim at getting form 




before he gets height, and with that once 
accomplished he will make consistent ad- 
vancement. The high jumper will find that 
broad jumping will not benefit his high jump- 
ing, as it will give him a tendency to jump 
into the bar. The high jumper should be 
just as careful about his take-off as the broad 
jumper, and a little watchfulness will soon 
show him at what distance from the bar he 
should make his jump. The young jumper will 



This picture illustrates the great part which the body takes in high jumping. By throwing his 
body into the position seen in the illustration, he has brought up his left foot. Now, by a swing 
down and out of the left arm, a kick upward with the right leg and an upward heave of the shoul- 
ders, his body will clear the bar. 

also have to find out for himself at just what 
angle to the bar he should approach it in order 
to clear it most easily. This angle varies with 
the jumpers mentioned above; but practically 

they all go at the bar almost directly from 
the front. 


Looking back on H. H. Baxter's record of 
1 1 feet 5 inches, made nearly fifteen years ago, 
and remembering that the present world's 
record by Clapp is only 5^ inches higher, one 
might suppose that American athletes have 
stood still as far as this event is concerned ; but 
a close investigation 
would reveal quite the 
reverse. In H. H. Bax- 
ter's time (by the way, 
he is no relation to the 
Baxter of the present 
day) the pole-vaulter 
was allowed to move 
the upper hand on the 
pole. This was a great 
advantage,even though 
it did not degenerate 
into climbing the pole, 
and this style is at least 
6 inches higher than 
the present style, in 
which the upper hand 
must not move. Thus 
Clapp's present record 
is much better than it 
appears. Also, there 
are now many men 
who can do close to n 
feet, indicating that a 
high standard of excel- 
lence has been attained. 
The first thing that 
the young vaulter has 
to learn is to get his 
take-off so that he can 
pay all his attention to 
getting over the bar. 
After getting his dis- 
tance, or while he is 
learning this, he should 
learn how to leave the 
ground. After planting his pole firmly, the 
vaulter should spring into the air, guiding 
his body by means of his arms and the pole. 
The legs should be shot up into the air so that 





( HjtWM M U ' '< MM 




Note the movement of the first leg over the bar and the great control of his body that Baxter has through his arms and legs. 

they will clear the bar, and so that they can be 
used as a sort of fulcrum to get the chest out 
of the way of the bar. When going over, the 
body should be swung so that it faces the bar. 
The momentum of the run and the spring should 
carry the feet into the air and give the body 
the half-turn just noted. Just before the 
body gets to the bar, the arms should lift, 
the back straighten, the legs drop down, and 
the body drop over the bar. It will be found 
that a better lift can be obtained if the lower 
hand is moved up to the upper hand. This 
is allowed, as the rule refers to the upper hand 
only, and the vaulter is free to move the lower 
hand if he so desires. Here, again, the young 
athlete should be cautioned against trying for 
height before he learns the form. Of course, 
practically, it may happen that the exigencies 
of competition may require him to try for height 
on special occasions ; but he should remember 
that if he is ever going to become a champion 

he must first get the form or he will not get the 
best results. 

The young vaulter must, in this event, get 
two take-offs, so to speak. He must get his 
take-off so that he will not have to worry 
about placing his pole for the vault. Then he 
will have to find out the varying heights at 
which he will grasp his pole in clearing the 
bar at different heights. This varies according 
to the lift that the vaulter may have, or the 
run or the spring into the air that he takes, and 
each young vaulter will have to find this out for 
himself. He should choose that height on the 
pole at which he can swing his body and legs 
clear up above the bar. Then, with a lift of the 
arms, he should be able to drop cleanly over on 
the other side. 

The vault is somewhat of a gymnastic feat, 
and it requires a great deal of strength in spe- 
cial muscles of the arms and shoulders. It is 
well, therefore, for the vaulter to take special 




exercise for the arms, shoulders, and back, tried their strength by putting the " stane " for 
But the two points that must be especially many hundreds of years, and it is still much 
borne in mind are the swing of the body and practised as a sport throughout Scotland. Very 

many school-boys do 
not properly put the 
shot. The writer re- 
members being at an 
interscholastic meeting 
where not a single boy 
put the shot. They all 
threw it. In putting the 
shot the weight leaves 
the hand straight from 
the shoulder. 

The shot-putter is al- 
lowed a seven-foot circle 
in which to get his run. 
He stands back at the 
farther side of the circle, 
and, poising with the 
weight in his hand, he 
moves up, not by step- 
ping but by a sort of 
glide, keeping the one 
foot forward until it 
reaches almost to the 
other side of the circle. 
Then the putter reverses 
his feet, the arm holding 
the shot shoots forward 
and upward, propelled 
not only by the momen- 
tum gained in moving 
across the circle, but 
also by all the weight 
of the body, the strength 
of the thighs and back, 



He jumps on the same principle as Baxter, and the picture shows him just after clearing the bar. 

legs into the air and the lift of the arms. 
These two movements must be nicely timed, 
and it will take considerable practice to get 
them perfect. The young athlete must re- 
member that in this, as in other field events, 
form often counts for more than natural ability, 
and that if he is to succeed as a college or 
club athlete he should aim at perfection in 
form above all things. 


Shot-putting, like hammer-throwing, is one 
of the oldest field-sports known. The Scots have 

and the power of the arm. The arm is shot 
straight out from the shoulder. If there is no 
stop from the beginning of the movement at the 
farther side of the circle, and if the putter has 
used his whole weight and strength on the reverse 
foot-movement, he has attained perfect form. 

The great obstacle to be overcome is a ten- 
dency to stop after gliding up to the front of 
the circle; for if this is done the athlete might 
just as well put standing still. There must be 
continuous motion from the beginning. After 
the young shot-putter has mastered going from 
the glide to the reverse he should then pay all 




his .attention to seeing that in that reverse, and and his record of close to 149 feet at this 
especially in the last drive, which is simulta- style has never been approached by any ham- 
neous with the shooting out of the arm, he uses mer-thrower, with the exception of "Willy" 
the weight of his body 
and the strength of his | 

The young shot-putter 
should, therefore, have 
weight behind him ; and 
if he has mastered the 
form indicated above, 
every pound will count. 
This is one reason why 
a shot-putter can stay in 
competition for so long 
and keep his form. The 
heavy man generally 
gets heavier as he grows 
older, and the increase 
in weight makes up for 
the decrease in speed, 
so that a shot-putter 
may get the same dis- 
tance when thirty-eight 
as he did at twenty-six. 
It is this fact that gives 
the young shot-putter 
plenty of time to mas- 
ter the form, and he 
should do this, if it 
takes two or three sea- 
sons. By not trying to 
get distance at first the 
young athlete will soon 
find himself getting the 
form, and then he will 
make much greater and 
much surer progress. 

Both the shot-putter and the hammer-thrower Woodruff, the former Pennsylvania star. With 
should take a little general exercise for their Flannagan came the double turn, and he star- 
bodies, and they should do some sprinting and tied amateur weight-throwing circles by increas- 



The picture shows him just after rising to the bar and just before lifting with arms 
and shoulders to get the body over the bar. 

running to get them fast on their feet. 


No event in the athletic calendar has under- 

ing the record to over 150 feet. Then in 1900 
Plaw, a young man from California, came along, 
and with the greatest ease threw the hammer 
over 160 feet, using a triple turn. But Flanna- 
gan, unlike Mitchell, who was too old to adopt 

gone more radical changes during the past five a new style, at once adopted the triple turn, 

years than the hammer throw. Up to the advent and ever since he has kept the record ahead 

of Flannagan, "Jim" Mitchell held the world's of the Californian. Flannagan was able to 

record. Mitchell threw with a single turn, change to the triple turn so easily because in 




Ireland he always threw with a triple turn ; but 
there the circle was nine feet instead of seven, 
as it is in this country. 

Flannagan and Plaw are therefore the models 
for the hammer-thrower, and there is no event 
which the sturdy young athlete should begin 
earlier than this one. By using a 12-pound 
hammer, the youth of moderate weight, say 
150 pounds or even 10 pounds lighter, can de- 

tain amount of weight and strength, but partic- 
ularly a great deal of cleverness in getting the 
turns swiftly and with ever-increasing speed. 
Of course, if the heavy man can get the speed 
in his turns he will do all the better. 

The young hammer-thrower should practise 
the turns until he has learned them perfectly. 
He will find that it is necessary to use all the 
circle to get in the three turns. The movement 

Just after the shot has left his hands. Sheldon gets his whole body into his put. 

velop the style which will be the same when, 
later on, he gets into college or club athletics 
and has to use the 16-pound hammer. In the 
days of Mitchell weight and strength were 
needed in an extraordinary degree to get the 
best results. The newest style demands a cer- 

will be easily explained to those who know how 
to waltz, for the turn is almost exactly that 
part of the waltz step which precedes the re- 
verse. For those who do not know how to 
waltz the following explanation may illustrate 
the point. The one foot or leg should be used 






as a pivot, and the most of the weight should not be very fast, the second should be faster, 
rest on it. The thrower should revolve on this and the third should be at the greatest possible 

Getting ready for the first turn in the hammer throw. 

foot for the first turn, and repeat the motion for speed. The hammer should not be revolved 
the second and third. The first turn should around the head in a horizontal position, but it 
Vol. XXX.— 77. 



should describe a turn 
half perpendicular, so 
that when it leaves the 
hands it will sail out 
and forward with a 
good elevation. The 
hammer should leave 
the hands cleanly and 
with no pull back. On 
the contrary, the whole 
weight and power of 
the shoulders and 
thighs should be put 
into the last effort. It 
will be found that when 
the hammer leaves the 
hands the thrower will 
not be facing the direc- 
tion in which he is 
throwing, but that he 
will be three quarters 
facing to the rear. This 
will allow the athlete 
to get the elevation to 

the hammer, as it will go nearly over the shoul- 
der. But different throwers face at various an- 
gles to the direction of the throw. As a very 

Mccracken of Pennsylvania, former intercollegiate champion, 
throwing the hammer. 

He is on the last turn, and is just coming around. As he alights, down and around will come 
the hammer, and then off over his left shoulder. 

great deal of the success in this event depends 
on the speed of the turns, they should be 
practised until they become second nature. 
Then, and not till then, 
will the thrower be 
able to put into his 
throwing all the power 
of which he is capable. 
.It will be noted that 
in all these suggestions 
for track events stress 
has been laid on a gen- 
eral development, that 
is, that the sprinter, 
distance-runner, and 
other young athletes 
should have good back 
muscles, strong hearts, 
healthy lungs, etc., if 
they hope to attain 
their limit of achieve- 
ment ; and the inter- 
scholastic athlete must 
lay the basis of his 
college championships 
while still at school. 


He has just made his first turn. The next two turns will be made with increasing rapidity, 
until the hammer at last leaves his hands at full speed. 


By R. F. Bunner. 

Jo Jobson, when wrecked on the billows, 
On a bellows just floated ashore ; 

But the land that he reached was a desert, 
So his troubles by no means were o'er. 

Starvation is slower than drowning, 

But a blacksmith — now what can he do 

In a land where they never use horses, 
And where camels need never a shoe? 

Jo still had his big, breezy bellows, , 

And he was not dismayed in the least ; 

For soon each tired traveler paid him 
To fan both himself and his beast. 



By Nina Moore Tiffany. 

Our globe of glass holds fishes three ; 
Gay, golden-scaled, they flash by me. 
I stand and watch their ringed eyes, 
That will not wink nor change in size, 
And wonder if they ever sleep, 
Or day and night that stare must keep. 

But, oh! such lovely colors gleam, 
As round and round my goldfish stream! 
Their floating tails are fans of light, 
That wave and quiver in their flight ; 
Their sides flame fire as up they dart, 
Swift as the wish that makes them start. 




And now I see a thing so queer — 
Six fishes in the water clear! 
Three large, and, gliding down below, 
Three small, that just above them go. 
Which are the real ones, those up high, 
Or these that grow as they pass by? 

Mama says all of them are true ; 
Papa says none of them! Yet you 
May plunge your hand right in and touch 
The three that puzzle me so much ; 
For as I gaze straight down, just three 
Turn solemn upward looks on me. 


By Allan Leigh. 


When Mr. and Mrs. Nelicurvius Baya went 
to housekeeping they selected a delightful little 
spot under the eaves of a cottage just alongside 
of another young couple whose home was al- 
ready half made, and then they commenced to 

Mrs. Baya found it quite proper to do her 
share of building, for she, too, belonged to the 
industrious family of weaver-birds. She helped 
her husband bring grasses, and it was truly won- 
derful to see how deftly the little pair would 
weave the pieces in and out, the bright yellow 
heads bobbing about vigorously all the while. 

Before very long the house began to take 
shape, and, odd as it may seem, it was built 
downward instead of upward, and as it pro- 
gressed it took the form of a decanter turned 
upside down. By this time, however, Mrs. 
Baya was no longer to be seen. When the 
upper part of the house had been built a parti- 
tion was run across it and a boudoir thus made 
for her use. Her good husband brought her 
the necessary materials, and she made a cozy 
little nest, after which she laid her eggs and 
sat upon them. 

Mr. Baya's work was not yet done, however. 
He continued to build until he was satisfied 
with the outward appearance of his home, and 
then he turned his attention to the inside and 
laid out three rooms besides his mate's. But in 
the meantime he did not forget the dear little 
mate sitting so faithfully on her eggs, for many 

a dainty morsel he carried to her, and many a 
kind word he chirped to her. 

At last the home was finished, and it was a 
happy little bird that perched on a bush near by 
and chirped with a full heart at the sight of the 
long nest swaying gently in the breeze. He sat 
there as dusk came on, telling the whole world 
of his happiness in the best way he could. He 
was a poor singer, but his voice was sweet to 
hear because his heart was full of joy. As 
he sat there a firefly swept by like a tiny meteor, 
dim in the daylight not yet faded. A thought 
shot through the mind of the happy bird. He 
darted off to a neighboring pool, and, taking up 
a bit of moist clay, hurried with it to his home. 
Quickly he pasted it to the wall of one of his 
rooms, then darted out and, hovering with flut- 
tering wings in the air, pounced upon a luckless 
firefly which, proud of its silvery glow, was fly- 
ing by. Back again to the new home, up 
through the small hallway, and with a push the 
glowing captive was fastened in the clay to shed 
its light in the cozy chamber. Again and again 
the same thing was repeated, until not only the 
interior was all aglow, but even the outer door- 
way and roof, when night came on, shone 
bright with a silver radiance. What splendor 
for the Baya family, and how proud they must 
have been ! 

Just why the baya should light up his dwell- 
ing nobody can tell. Some say it is because he 
does n't like the darkness ; others that it is to 
dazzle the eyes of plundering bats; others say 
that he does not care for the light, but only 




wants to eat the fireflies. The birds like to 
build their nests near others of the same kind, 
and one traveler says he has seen as many as a 
hundred of these nests hanging from the eaves 
of one cottage. 

One can easily believe that a bird with the 


intelligence to light up his dwelling must be 
able to do many more things. And so he is. 
Indeed, the baya does so many wonderful things 
that it needs a great deal of testimony to 
convince those who have not witnessed his 
feats that the truth is being told of him. They 
who have seen trained canary-birds perform will 
have less difficulty in believing than others, 
though the canary does not compare with the 
baya in either intelligence or courage. 


The middle of Africa is hardly the place 
where one would expect to find an apartment- 
house ; and yet, if a complete house of several 
rooms on one floor makes an apartment, then 

there is such a thing in the middle of Africa. 
True, both builder and occupant is a bird, but 
why should that make any difference ? 

This bird is a first cousin to the storks and 
herons, though it would never be suspected of 
it, for it is quite lacking in the solemn dignity 
for which those families are famous. Besides, it 
has the very plebeian name of " hammerhead." 
At least, that is the name the Dutch colonists 
in Africa have given it, because its head really 
looks very much like a tack-hammer. Scientific 
men have rechristened it in Latin Scopus um- 
bretta ; but most persons will probably continue 
to call it hammerhead. 

A great many other birds build very elabo- 
rate nests or houses, but none seem to have 
acted with quite the same modern architectural 
spirit as the hammerhead. Most birds, too, are 
content with providing warmth and shelter for 
their little ones, without having any care for 
themselves ; but our bird seems much more civ- 
ilized than that. It is not a very large bird — 
not more than twenty inches in length; yet it 
builds a house nearly ten feet long, and lays it 
out in rooms ! 

It selects a sheltered ledge of rock when pos- 
sible, sometimes choosing a spot almost inacces- 
sible to man, but sometimes building also on the 
open plain. The structure is half as wide as it 
is long, and has a domed top, as if the feathered 
architect knew that the arch is the strongest 
possible shape. The walls are built of twigs 
interwoven firmly and filled in with clay ; and 
so substantially is the work done that, when 
completed, a heavy man may walk over it with- 
out injuring it in the least. The house is built 
on a slightly inclined surface, and the door is 
placed at the lower end in order that the floods 
of rain which fall in that country may not pour 
into the dwelling. 

The doorway is the smallest opening possible 
for the bird to enter, and is frequently so dis- 
guised that it is no easy matter to discover it, 
even though you may have first seen the bird 
dart through it. 

The outer doorway opens into a small ante- 
chamber, which leads through a small entrance 
into a larger room, which in its turn opens by 
a doorway into a spacious apartment raised one 
step above the floor of the other chambers and 




carpeted with soft leaves and velvety moss. In 
the last and choicest apartment the mother bird 
lays from three to five snow-white eggs; and 
there the little birds first peep forth from their 

The middle chamber is used as a store-room, 


where provisions are carefully laid away for the 
use of the little ones in times when danger 
keeps the old ones from going forth, or when 
from any cause food outside becomes scarce. 
The small anteroom is quite bare, for there the 
parent not sitting on the eggs stands guard. 
With its body pressed close to the earth and 
with its head thrust forth from the entrance, it 
watches vigilantly for danger. There is no 

apparent difference between the father and the 
mother bird either in looks or in attention to 
the eggs or little ones, for the father sits on 
the eggs and feeds the babes as faithfully as 
does his mate. 

The several rooms are separated by walls of 
twigs and clay very deftly worked 
together, though of course they 
cannot rival partitions made by 
the human workman, with his lath 
and plaster. These active birds 
are not content, however, with sim- 
ply making a good, strong, warm 
house, for any bright object which 
they are able to carry they thrust 
among the twigs of which the house 
is built, so that their nests sometimes 
gleam with these shining bits which 
they have collected. Whatever their 
purpose, the birds seem to have a 
liking for bright things, and when 
they are near human habitations 
they do not hesitate to pick up and 
make off with anything that takes 
their fancy. They have made such 
a practice of this that whenever a 
man loses his pipe or his knife, or 
a woman some glittering thing, away 
they go to the hammerhead man- 
sion and seek for it. 
The hammerheads have a plumage of an 
umber brown color, with purple-brown bands 
across the tail. The beak is longer than the 
head and very black, and the head is crowned 
by a bushy crest that is very beautiful, but 
which gives to the bird's head the resemblance 
to a tack-hammer before noticed. 

Hammerheads are found in southern Arabia, 
Central and South Africa, and Madagascar. 



Said grandmama 

To grandpapa, 
A-dozing in his chair : 
" When you I see, 

How glad I 'd be 
To sleep as you do there! " 

Said grandpapa 
To grandmama : 
" A foolish wish you make! 
When you I see, 
How glad I 'd be 
If I could keep awake!" 

Nell Kimberly McElhone. 




Bv Howard Pyle. 

Chapter V. 

how king Arthur's royalty was 

Now when the next day was come the Duke 
of North Umber and his six knights-companion 
appeared upon the field in front of the castle 
of Camilard, as he had duly declared that he 
and they would do. And those seven cham- 
pions appeared in very great estate; for in 
front of them there rode seven heralds with 
trumpets and tabards, and behind them there 
rode seven esquires — each esquire bearing the 
spear, the shield, the crest, and the banneret of 
the knight who was his lord and master. And 
the seven heralds blew their trumpets so exceed- 
ing loud that the sound thereof penetrated unto 
the utmost parts of Camilard, so that the peo- 
ple came running from everywhere. And while 
the heralds blew their trumpets, the seven 
esquires shouted and waved the spears and the 

So they paraded up and down that field 

* Copyrighted, 1902, by Howard Pyle 
Vol. XXX.— 78-79. 617 

three times for its entire length, and meantime 
a great crowd of people, called thither by the 
blowing of the heralds' trumpets, stood upon 
the walls and gazed therefrom at that noble 
spectacle. And all the court of King Rayence 
came and stood upon the plain in front of the 
king's pavilion, and they shouted and cheered 
the Duke of North Umber and his six knights- 

Now there had been pitched seven pavilions 
of silken texture at the end of the field, one 
pavilion for each of the seven champions. And 
above each pavilion was a silken banner of a 
color similar to the color of the pavilion, and 
each banner was emblazoned with the coat of 
arms of the knight to whom the pavilion ap- 
pertained. And lo! the sun shone down upon 
those silken pavilions and upon the banners 
that flew to the breeze, so that all that extremity 
of the field was gay beyond telling with the 
brightness of the colors that covered it. 

So when those seven champions had three 
times paraded the entire length of the field as 
All rights reserved. 




aforesaid, each knight went immediately into 
his pavilion, and there they awaited the issue 
of their challenge. 

Meanwhile King Leodegrance of Camilard 
was so cast down with trouble and shame that 
he did not choose to show his face, but hid 
himself away from all his court. Nor would 
he permit any one for to come into his presence 
at that time. Nevertheless, the Lady Guine- 
vere, with sundry of her damsels, went unto the 
king's closet where he was, and knocked upon 
the door thereof. And when the king denied 
her to come in to him, she spake to him through 
the door, giving him words of good cheer and 
saying : " My Lord King and father, I prithee 
for to look up and to take good cheer unto 
thyself. For I do assure thee that there is one 
who hath our cause in his hands, and that one 
is certes a very glorious champion. And he 
shall assuredly come by and by, ere this day 
is done. And when he cometh he shall cer- 
tainly overthrow our enemies." 

So spake the Lady Guinevere, so that, 
whilst King Leodegrance came not forth, 
yet he was greatly comforted at that which 
she said to him. 

So passed all that morning and a part of the 
afternoon, and yet no one appeared for to take 
up that challenge which the seven knights had 
declared. Then, whilst the sun was yet three 
or four hours high, there suddenly appeared 
at a great distance a cloud of dust. And in 
that cloud of dust there presently appeared 
five knights, riding at great speed thitherward. 
And those five knights came toward Camilard 
very splendidly, for the sun shone upon their 
armors and their accoutrements, so that each 
knight appeared to ride in a flame of fire of 
exceeding glory. And when the people upon 
the Walls beheld the five knights riding to- 
ward Camilard, they shouted aloud with a 
great and mighty voice, for they wist that the 
five champions rode thitherward for to defend 

And when the five knights had come nigh 
unto the walls, lo ! the people beheld that he 
who rode foremost of all was that same White 
Champion who had aforetime overthrown the 
Duke of North Umber. Moreover, they per- 
ceived that the four knights who rode with that 

White Champion were very famous knights, 
and of great prowess and glory at arms. For 
the one was Sir Gawaine, and the other was 
Sir Ewaine, and the other was Sir Geraint, and 
the other was Sir Pellias. For the people of 
the castle and the town knew those four knights, 
because they had dwelt for two days at Camilard, 
and they were of such exceeding renown that 
folk crowded from far and near for to look upon 
them whensoever they appeared for to walk 
abroad in the streets. 

Now King Leodegrance heard the people 
shouting, wherefore hope awoke of a sudden 
within him, so he straightway came forth with 
all speed for to see what was ado, and there 
he beheld those five noble champions about to 
enter into the field below the castle walls. 

And the Lady Guinevere heard the shouting 
and came forth also, and behold ! there was. 
that White Champion and those four other 
knights. So when she beheld the White 
Knight and his four companions-at-arms, her 
heart was like to break within her for pure joy 
and gladness ; wherefore she wept for the ex- 
ceeding joy thereof. And she waved her ker- 
chief unto those five noble lords, and kissed her 
hand unto them. And the five knights saluted 
her as they rode past her into the field. 

Now when the Duke of North Umber was. 
made aware that those five knights had come 
against him and his knights-companion for to 
take up his challenge, he straightway came 
forth from his pavilion and mounted his horse. 
And his knights-companion came forth and 
mounted their horses, and he and they went 
forth to meet those who had come against, 

And when the Duke of North Umber had 
come nigh enough he perceived that the chiefest 
of those five knights was the White Champion 
who had aforetime overthrown him. Wherefore 
he said unto that White Champion : "Sir Knight,. 
I have once before condescended unto thee 
who art altogether unknown to me or to any- 
body else that is here. For, without inquiring 
concerning thy quality, I ran a course with thee,, 
and, lo ! by the chance of arms thou didst over- 
throw me. Now this quarrel is more serious 
than that; wherefore I and my companions-at- 
arms will not run a course with thee and thy 




companions, nor will we fight with thee, until 
I first know what is the quality of him against 
whom I contend. Wherefore, I bid thee pres- 
ently declare thyself, who thou art and what is 
thy condition." 

Then Sir Gawaine opened the umbrel of his 
helmet, and he said : " Sir Knight, behold my 
face, and know that I am Gawaine, the son of 
King Lot. Wherefore thou mayst perceive 
that my condition and estate are even better 
than thine own. Now I do declare unto thee 
that yonder White Knight is of such a quality 
that he condescends unto thee when he doeth 
combat with thee, and that thou dost not con- 
descend unto him." 

" Ho, Sir Gawaine ! " quoth the Duke of 
Umber. " What thou sayest is a very strange 
thing, for, indeed, there are few in this world 
who are so exalted that they may condescend 
unto me. Ne'theless, since thou dost avouch 
for him, I may not gainsay that which thou 
sayest. Yet there is still another reason why 
we may not fight with you. For, behold ! we 
are seven well-approved and famous knights, 
and you are but five. So consider how unequal 
are our forces, and that you stand in great peril 
in undertaking so dangerous an encounter." 

Then Sir Gawaine smiled right grimly upon 
that Duke of North Umber. " Gramercy for thy 
compassion and for the tenderness which thou 
showest concerning our safety, Sir Mordaunt," 
quoth he. " But ne'theless thou mayst leave 
that matter unto us with entire content of spirit 
upon thy part. For I consider that the peril 
in which ye seven stand is fully equal to our 
peril. Moreover, wert thou other than a belted 
knight, a simple man might suppose that thou 
wert more careful of thine own safety in this 
matter than thou art of ours." 

Now at these words the countenance of the 
Duke of North Umber became altogether cov- 
ered with red, for he wist that he had indeed 
no great desire for this battle, wherefore he was 
ashamed because of the words which Sir 
Gawaine spake to him. " We will fight you, 
Sir Knight," said he ; " but if ye five are over- 
whelmed with numbers, then thank ye your- 
selves and blame us not therefor." 
, Then Sir Gawaine smiled again upon Duke 
Mordaunt. " Take thou no care for that, my 

Lord Duke," quoth he, " for, an ye overwhelm 
us with numbers, we will, indeed, blame no one 
but ourselves therefor." 

So upon this each knight closed his helmet and 
all turned their horses ; and the one party rode 
unto one end of the field, and the other party 
rode to the other end of the field, and there 
each took stand in the place assigned unto him. 

And they arranged themselves thus : in the 
middle was King Arthur, and upon either hand 
were two knights; and in the middle of the 
opposing contestants was the Duke of North 
Umber, and upon either hand were three 
knights. So, when they had thus arrayed 
themselves, they dressed their spears and their 
shields, and made them altogether ready for 
the onset. Then King Arthur and Duke 
Mordaunt each shouted aloud, and the one 
party hurled upon the other party with such 
violence that the ground shook and thundered 
beneath the hoofs of the horses, and the clouds 
of dust rose up against the heavens. 

And so they met in the middle of the field 
with an uproar of dreadful violence. 

And when the one party had passed the 
other, and the dust of the encounter had blown 
away, lo ! three of the seven had been over- 
thrown, and not one of the five had lost his seat. 

And one of those who had been overthrown 
was Duke Mordaunt of North Umber. And 
behold! he nevermore arose again from the 
ground whereon he lay. For King Arthur's 
spear had pierced the shield of the Duke of 
North Umber and had pierced his body armor. 
And so violent was the stroke that the Duke 
of North Umber had been lifted entirely out of 
his saddle and had been cast a full spear's-length 
behind his horse. Thus died that wicked man. 

Now when King Arthur turned him about at 
the end of the course and beheld that there were 
but four knights left upon their horses of all those 
seven against whom he and his companions 
had driven, he uplifted his spear, and drew rein 
upon his horse, and bespake his knights in this 
wise : " Messires, I am aweary of all this quar- 
reling, and do not care to fight any more to-day ; 
so go ye and engage those knights in battle. I 
will abide here and witness your adventure." 

" Lord King," said they, " we will do our en- 
deavor as thou dost command." 




So those four good knights did as they were 
commanded, and they went forth straightway 
against those other four, much encouraged that 
their king looked upon their endeavor. And 
King Arthur sat with the butt of his spear 
resting upon his instep, and looked upon the 
field with great content of spirit and a stead- 
fast countenance. 

As for those four knights-companion that re- 
mained of the Duke of North Umber's party, 
they came not forth to this second encounter 
with so much readiness of spirit as they had 
shown aforetime. For they were now well 
aware of how great was the excellent prowess 
of those other knights, and they beheld that 
their enemies came forth to this second en- 
counter very fiercely and with great valor and 
readiness of spirit. Wherefore their hearts 
melted away within them with doubt and anx- 
iety as to the outcome of this second encounter 
with the champions of King Leodegrance. 

Nevertheless they prepared themselves with 
such resolve as might be, and came forth as 
they were called upon to do. 

Then Sir Gawaine drave straight up to the 
foremost knight, who was a very well-known 
champion named Sir Dinador. When he had 
come sufficiently nigh to him, he lifted himself 
up in his stirrups, and he smote Sir Dinador so 
fierce a blow that he cleft the shield of that 
knight asunder, and he cleft his helmet. 

And when Sir Dinador felt that blow, he 
was fain to catch the horn of his saddle for 
to save himself from falling therefrom. Then 
a great terror straightway fell upon him, so that 
he drew rein violently to one side. And he fled 
away from that place. 

And when his companions beheld that stroke 
that Sir Gawaine delivered, and when they be- 
held Sir Dinador flee away from before him, 
they also drew rein to one side and fled away 
with all speed, pursued with a dread terror of 
their enemies. And Sir Gawaine and Sir 
Ewaine and Sir Geraint and Sir Pellias pur- 
sued them as they fled. And they chased them 
straight through the court of King Rayence, so 
that the knights and nobles of that court scat- 
tered hither and thither like chaff at their com- 
ing. And they chased those fleeing knights in 
among the pavilions of King Rayence's court, 

and no man stayed them ; and when they had 
chased those knights entirely away, they re- 
turned to that place where King Arthur still 
held his station, steadfastly awaiting them. 

Now when the people of Camilard beheld 
the overthrow of their enemies, and when they 
beheld how those enemies fled away before the 
faces of their champions, they shouted with 
might and main, and made great acclaim. Nor 
did they stint their loud shouting when those 
four knights returned from pursuing their ene- 
mies and came back unto the White Cham- 
pion again. 

And still more did they shout when those 
five knights rode across the drawbridge and 
through the gateway and into the town. 

Thus ended that great bout at arms, which 
was one of the most famous in all the history 
of chivalry of King Arthur's court. 

Now when King Arthur had thus accom- 
plished his purposes, and when he had come 
into the town again, he went unto that mer- 
chant of whom he had obtained the armor that 
he wore, and he delivered that armor back to 
him again. And he said : " To-morrow-day, 
Sir Merchant, I shall send thee two bags of 
gold for the rent of that armor which thou 
didst let me have." 

And the merchant, Ralph of Cardiff, said: 
" My lord, it is not needed that thou shouldst 
recompense me for that armor which I did 
lend to thee, for thou hast done great honor 
unto Camilard by thy prowess." 

And King Arthur said : " Have done, Sir 
Merchant, nor must thou forbid what I say. 
Wherefore take thou that which I shall send 
unto thee." 

Thereupon he went his way, and, having set 
his cap of disguise upon his head, he went 
back into the Lady Guinevere's gardens again. 

Now when the next morning had come, the 
people of Camilard looked forth, and lo! King 
Rayence had departed entirely away from be- 
fore the castle. For that night he had struck 
his pavilions and had withdrawn his court, and 
had gone away from that place where he and 
his people had encamped for five days past. 
And with him he had taken the body of the 
Duke of North Umber, conveying it away in a 



62 1 

litter surrounded by many lighted candles and 
uplifted by a peculiar pomp of ceremony. But 
when the people of Camilard beheld that he was 
gone, they were exceedingly rejoiced thereat, 

Now that morning the Lady Guinevere 
walked in her garden, and with her walked the 
two knights, Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine, and 
lo, there she beheld the gardener's boy again. 

!)£ Garbenci Lab talks. * 
off Ips Cap. 

and made merry, and shouted and sang and 
laughed. For they wotted not how deeply en- 
raged King Rayence was against them; nor 
that his enmity aforetime toward King Leode- 
grance was but as a small flame when compared 
to the anger that now possessed him. 

Drawn by Howard Pyle. 

Then she laughed aloud, and she said unto 
those two knights : " Messires, behold ! Yon- 
der is the gardener's boy who weareth his cap 
continually because he hath taken a vow not to 
remove it." 

Then those two knights, knowing who that 




gardener's boy was, were exceedingly abashed 
at her speech, and wist not what to say or 
whither to look. And Sir Gawaine spake 
aside unto Sir Ewaine, and quoth he : " In 
sooth, the lady knoweth not what manner of 
man is yonder gardener's boy, or, an she did, 
she would be more sparing of her speech." 

And the Lady Guinevere heard Sir Gawaine 
that he spoke, but she did not hear his words. 
So she turned unto him and said: "Sir Ga- 
waine, haply it doth affront thee that that gar- 
dener's boy should wear his cap before us, and 
mayhap thou wilt go and take it off from his 
head, as thou didst offer to do two or three days 

And Sir Gawaine said : " Peace, lady ! Thou 
knowest not what thou sayest. Yonder gar- 
dener's boy could more easily take my head 
from off my shoulders than I could take his cap 
from off his head." 

And at this the Lady Guinevere made open 
laughter; but in her heart she secretly pon- 
dered that saying, and greatly marveled what 
Sir Gawaine meant thereby. 

Now about noon of that day there came a 
herald from King Rayence of North Wales, and 
he appeared boldly before King Leodegrance 
where the king sat in his hall with a number of 
his people about him. And the herald said: 
" My Lord King : my master, King Rayence of 
North Wales, is greatly displeased with 'thee. 
For thou didst set certain knights upon Duke 
Mordaunt of North Umber, and those knights 
have slain that excellent nobleman, who was 
close kin unto King Rayence. Moreover, thou 
hast made no reply to those demands that my 
master King Rayence hath made touching the 
delivery unto him of certain lands and castles 
bordering upon North Wales. Wherefore my 
master is affronted with thee beyond measure. 
So my master, King Rayence, bids me to set 
forth to thee two conditions, and the conditions 
are these : Firstly, that thou dost immediately 
deliver into his hands that White Knight who 
slew the Duke of North Umber. Secondly, 
that thou makest immediate promise that those 
lands in question shall be presently delivered 
unto King Rayence." 

Then King Leodegrance arose from where 

he sat and spake to that herald with great dig- 
nity of demeanor. " Sir Herald," quoth he, 
" the demands that King Rayence maketh upon 
me pass all bounds for insolence. That death 
which the Duke of North Umber suffered he 
suffered because of his own pride and folly. 
Nor would I deliver that White Knight into 
thy master's hands even an I were able to do 
so. As for those lands that thy master de- 
mandeth of me — thou mayst tell King 
Rayence that I will not deliver unto him of 
those lands so much as a single blade of grass 
or a single grain of corn that groweth thereon." 

And the herald said : " If so be that is thine 
answer, King Leodegrance, then am I bidden 
for to tell thee that my master, King Rayence 
of North Wales, will presently come hither 
with an array of a great force of arms, and will 
take from thee by force those things which thou 
wilt not deliver unto him peacefully." Where- 
upon, so saying, he departed thence and went 
his way. 

Now after the herald had departed, King 
Leodegrance went into his closet ; and when he 
had come there he sent privily for the Lady 
Guinevere. So the Lady Guinevere came to 
him where he was. And King Leodegrance 
said to her: " My daughter, it hath happened 
that a knight clad all in white, and bearing no 
crest or device of any sort, hath twice come to 
our rescue and hath overthrown our enemies. 
Now it is said by everybody that that knight is 
thine own particular champion; and I hear say 
that he wore thy necklace as a favor when he 
first went out against the Duke of North Umber. 
Now I prithee, daughter, tell me who that 
White Champion is, and where he may be 

Then the Lady Guinevere was overwhelmed 
with a confusion, wherefore she looked away 
from her father's countenance, and she said : 
" Verily, my lord, I know not who that knight 
may be." 

Then King Leodegrance spake very seriously 
to the Lady Guinevere, and he took her by the 
hand and said : " My daughter, thou art now 
of an age when thou must consider being married 
unto a man who may duly cherish thee and. 
protect thee from thine enemies. For, 16 ! I 
grow apace in years, and may not hope to 




defend thee always from those perils that en- 
compass one of our estate. Moreover, since 
King Arthur (who is a very great king indeed) 
hath brought peace unto this realm, all that 
noble court of chivalry which one time gathered 
about me has been scattered elsewhither where 
greater adventures may be found than in my 
peaceful realm. Wherefore, as all the world 
hath seen this week past, I have now not one 
single knight whom I may depend upon to 
defend us in such times of peril as those which 
now overshadow us. Now, my daughter, it 
doth appear to me that thou couldst not hope 
to find any one who could so well safeguard 
thee as this White Knight ; for he doth indeed 
appear to be a champion of extraordinary 
prowess and strength. Wherefore it would be 
well if thou didst feel thyself to incline unto 
him as he appeareth to incline unto thee." 

Then the Lady Guinevere's face became all 
rosy red as with a fire, even unto her throat. 
And she laughed, albeit the tears overflowed 
her eyes and ran down upon her cheeks. So 
she wept, yet laughed in weeping. And she 
said unto King Leodegrance : " My lord and 
father, an I give my liking unto any one in the 
manner thou speakest of, I will give it only 
unto the poor gardener-boy who digs in my 

Then at these words the countenance of 
King Leodegrance became contracted with 
violent anger, and he cried out : " How, then, 
lady ! wouldst thou make a mock and a jest 
of my words? " 

And the Lady Guinevere said : " Indeed, my 
lord, I jest not and I mock not. Moreover, 
I tell thee for verity that that same gardener's 
boy knoweth more concerning the White Cham- 
pion than anybody else in all of the world." 

At this, King Leodegrance looked at her, and 
exclaimed : " What is this that thou tellest me ? " 

And the Lady Guinevere said: "Send for 
that gardener's boy and thou shalt know." 

And King Leodegrance answered: " Verily 
there is more in this than I may at present 

So he called to him the chief of his pages, 
named Dorisand, and he said to him : " Go, 
Dorisand*, and bring hither the gardener's boy 
from the Lady Guinevere's garden." 

So Dorisand the page went as King Leode- 
grance commanded, and in a little while he 
returned, bringing with him that gardener's 
boy. And with them came Sir Gawaine and 
Sir Ewaine and Sir Pellias and Sir Geraint. 
And those four lords stood over against the 
door where they entered, but the gardener's boy 
came and stood beside the table where King 
Leodegrance sat. And the king lifted up his 
eyes and looked upon the gardener's boy, and 
he said : " Ha ! wouldst thou wear thy cap in 
our presence ? " 

And the gardener's boy said : " I may not 
take off my cap." 

And the Lady Guinevere, who stood beside 
the chair of King Leodegrance, spake and said : 
" I do beseech thee, lad, for to take off thy 
cap unto my father." 

And the gardener's boy said : " At thy bid- 
ding I will take it off." 

Thereupon he took the cap from off his head, 
and King Leodegrance beheld his face and 
knew him. And when he saw who it was that 
stood before him, he made a great outcry 
from pure amazement. And he said : " My 
Lord King ! What is this marvel ? " Thereupon 
he arose from where he sat, and he went and 
knelt down upon the ground before King Ar- 
thur. And he set the palms of his hands to- 
gether and he put his hands within the hands 
of King Arthur, and King Arthur took the 
hands of King Leodegrance within his own. 
And King Leodegrance said : " My lord, my 
king ! Is it, then, thou who hast done all these 
wonderful things ? " 

And King Arthur said : " Yea ; such as those 
things were, I have done them." And he 
stooped and kissed King Leodegrance upon 
the cheek, and lifted him up unto his feet, and 
gave him words of good cheer. 

Now the Lady Guinevere, when she beheld 
those things that passed, was astonished beyond 
measure. And she understood of a sudden 
with an amazing clearness. Wherefore a great 
fear fell upon her, so that she trembled exceed- 
ingly, and said to herself : " What things have 
I said unto this great king, and how have I 
mocked him and made jest of him before all 
those who were about me ! " And at the 
thought thereof she set her hand upon her 




side for to still the extreme disturbance of her 
heart. So whilst King Arthur and King Leode- 
grance gave to each other words of royal greet- 
ing and of compliment, she withdrew herself 
from where she was and went and stood over 
against the window nigh to the corner of the wall. 

Then, by and by, King Arthur lifted up his 
eyes and beheld her where she stood afar off. 
And straightway he went unto her, and he took 
her by the hand and he said, " Lady, what 
cheer ? " 

And she said, " Lord, I am afeard of thy 

And he said : " Nay, lady. Rather it is I 
who am afeard of thee. For thy kind regard 
is dearer unto me than anything else in all the 
world ; else had I not served for these twelve 
days as gardener's boy in thy garden." 

And she said, " Thou hast my good will, 
my lord." 

And he said, " Have I thy good will in great 
measure ? " 

And she said, "Yea; thou hast it in great 

Then he stooped his head and kissed her 
before all those who were there, and thus their 
troth was plighted. 

And King Leodegrance was filled with ex- 
ceeding joy. 

Now I shall not tell you all things concern- 
ing the war with King Rayence that followed ; 
for this story touches only the knightly deeds 
of those great lords and knights of King Ar- 
thur's court. Of the wars and the battles of 
armies you may read at length elsewhere. It 
is here sufficient to say that Sir Kay and Sir 
Ulfius gathered together a great army, as King 
Arthur had bidden them to do ; and that when 
King Rayence came against Camilard he was 
altogether routed and his army dispersed, and 
he himself chased in flight into his mountains. 

Then there was great rejoicing in Camilard ; 
for after his victory King Arthur remained 
there for a while with an exceedingly splendid 
court of noble lords and of beautiful ladies. 
And there was feasting and jousting and many 
famous bouts at arms, the like of which those 
parts had never before beheld. 

Now on a certain day, whilst King Arthur sat 

at feast with King Leodegrance, King Leode- 
grance said unto King Arthur : " My lord, what 
shall I offer thee for a dowry with my daughter 
when thou takest her to be thy queen ? " 

And King Arthur turned to Merlin, who 
stood nigh, and said : " Merlin, what shall I de- 
mand of my friend by way of dowry ? " 

And Merlin said : " My Lord King, thy friend 
King Leodegrance hath one thing the which 
(should he bestow it upon thee) will singularly 
increase the glory and renown of thy reign, so 
that the same thereof shall never be forgotten." 

And King Arthur said : " Merlin, I bid thee 
tell me what is that thing." 

So Merlin said : " My Lord King, I will tell 
thee the story thereof: 

" In the days of thy father, King Uther- 
Pendragon, I caused to be made for him a 
certain table in the shape of a ring, wherefore 
men called it the Round Table. Now at 
this table were seats for fifty men, and these 
seats were designed for the fifty knights who 
were the most worthy knights in all the world. 
And these seats were of such a sort that when- 
ever a worthy knight appeared, then his name 
appeared in letters of gold upon the back of 
that chair that appertained unto him, and above 
where the head of that knight would be ; and 
when that knight died, then would his name 
suddenly vanish from that seat which he had 
aforetime occupied. 

Now forty-and-nine of these seats were alto- 
gether alike, saving only one that was set aside 
for the king himself, which same was elevated 
above the other seats, and was cunningly carved 
and inlaid with ivory and with gold. But one 
seat was different from all the others, and it 
was called the Seat Perilous. And this seat 
differed from all the others, both in its structure 
and its significance. For it was all cunningly 
inset with gold and silver of curious device ; 
and it was covered with a canopy of satin em- 
broidered with gold and silver; and it was 
altogether of a wonderful magnificence of ap- 
pearance. And no name ever appeared upon 
this seat, for only one knight in all of the world 
could hope to sit therein with safety unto him- 
self; for if any other dared to sit therein, either 
he would die a sudden and violent death 
within three days' time, or else a great misfor- 

Laby Guirouete. ^r^ 

Drawn by Howard Pyle. 





tune would befall him. Hence it was that the 
seat was called the Seat Perilous. 

" Now in the days of thy renowned father, 
King Uther Pendragon, there sat seven-and- 
thirty knights at the Round Table. And when 
King Uther Pendragon died, he decreed that 
the Round Table should be given unto his 
friend, King Leodegrance of Camilard. 

" And in the beginning of King Leode- 
grance's reign there sat four-and-twenty knights 
at the Round Table. 

" But times have changed since then, and the 
glory of the King Leodegrance's reign hath paled 
before the glory of thy reign, so that his noble 
court of knights has altogether quitted him. 
Wherefore there remaineth now not one name, 
saving only the name of King Leodegrance, 
on all those fifty seats that encircle the Round 
Table. So now that famous Round Table lieth 
beneath its pavilion, altogether unused. 

" Yet if King Leodegrance will give unto 
thee, my Lord King, that Round Table for a 
dower with the Lady Guinevere, then will it 
lend unto thy reign its greatest glory. For in thy 
day every seat of that Table shall be filled, even 
unto the Seat Perilous, and the fame of the 
knights who sit at it shall never be forgotten." 

"Ha! " quoth King Arthur. "That would, 
indeed, be a dower worthy for any king to have 
with his queen." 

" Then," said King Leodegrance, " that 
dower shalt thou have with my daughter. And 
if it bring thee great glory, then shall thy glory be 
my glory, and thy renown shall be my renown." 

And King Arthur said, " Thou sayest well 
and wisely." 

Thus King Arthur became the master of that 
famous Round Table. And the Round Table 
was set up at Camelot (which men now call 
Winchester), and a pavilion of parti-colored 
silk, embroidered with threads of silk inter- 
woven with gold, covered it over and gave it 
shelter. And by and by there gathered about 
it such an array of splendid knights as the 
world had never beheld before that time, and 
which mayhap it shall never behold again. 

And now ye shall hear of the marriage of King 
Arthur and of certain very excellent and extraor- 
dinary adventures that happened at that time. 

Chapter VI. 


And now was come the early fall of the year ; 
that pleasant season when meadow-land and 
wold were still green with the summer that had 
only just passed ; when the sky, likewise, was 
as of summer-time — .extraordinarily blue and 
full of large floating clouds ; when a bird might 
sing here and another there a short song in 
memory of springtime (as the smaller fowl doth 
when the year draweth to its ending) ; when 
all the air was tempered with warmth and yet 
the leaves were everywhere turning brown and 
red and gold, so that when the sun shone 
through them it was as though a cloth of gold, 
broidered with brown and crimson and green, 
hung above the head. Now was come the 
early autumn season of the year, when it is ex- 
ceedingly pleasant to be afield among the nut- 
trees with hawk and hound, or to travel abroad 
in the yellow world, whether it be ahorse or 

Such was the time of year in which had been 
set the marriage of King Arthur and the Lady 
Guinevere at Camelot, and at that place was 
extraordinary pomp and glory of circumstance. 
All the world was astir and in a great ferment 
of joy, for all folk were exceedingly glad that 
King Arthur was to have him a queen. 

In preparation for that great occasion the 
town of Camelot was entirely bedight with mag- 
nificence, for the stony street along which the 
Lady Guinevere must come to the royal castle 
of the king was strewn thick with fresh-cut 
rushes, smoothly laid. Moreover, it was in 
many places spread with carpets of excellent 
pattern such as might be fit to lay upon the 
floor of some goodly hall. Likewise all the 
houses along the way were hung with fine 
hangings of woven texture interwoven with 
threads of azure and crimson, and everywhere 
were flags and bannerets afloat in the warm 
and gentle breeze against the blue sky, so that 
all the world appeared to be alive with bright 

Thus came the wedding-day of the king- 
bright and clear and exceeding radiant. 

King Arthur sat in his hall, surrounded by his 




court, awaiting news that the Lady Guinevere 
was coming thitherward. And it was about 
the middle of the morning when there came a 
messenger in haste riding upon a milk-white 
steed. And the raiment of that messenger and 
the trappings of his horse were all of cloth of 
gold embroidered with scarlet and white, and 
the tabard of the messenger was set with many 
jewels, so that he glistened from afar as he rode, 
with a singular splendor of appearance. 

So this herald-messenger came straight into 
the castle where the king abided waiting, and 
he said : " My Lord King, the Lady Guinevere 
with her father, the King Leodegrance, and 
their court draweth nigh unto this place." 

Upon this the king immediately arose with 
great joy, and straightway he went forth with 
his court of knights, riding in great state. And 
as he went down that marvelously adorned 
street, all the people shouted aloud as he 
passed by, wherefore he smiled and bent his 
head from side to side ; for that day he was 
wondrous happy. 

Thus he rode forward unto the town gate, 
and out therefrom, and so came thence into 
the country beyond, where the broad and 
well-beaten highway ran winding down be- 
side the shining river betwixt the willows 
and the osiers. 

And, behold! King Arthur and those with 
him perceived the court of the princess where 
it appeared at a distance, wherefore they made 
great rejoicing and hastened forward with all 
speed. And as they came nigh, the sun falling 
upon the apparels of silk and cloth of gold, and 
upon golden chains and the jewels that hung 
therefrom, all of that noble company that sur- 
rounded the Lady Guinevere's litter flashed 
and sparkled with a marvelous radiance. 

For seventeen of the noblest knights of King 
Arthur's court, clad in complete armor, and sent 
by him as an escort unto the lady, rode in great 
splendor, surrounding the litter wherein the 
princess lay. And the framework of that litter 
was of richly gilded wood, and its curtains and 
its cushions were of crimson silk embroidered 
with threads of gold. And behind the litter 
there rode in gay and joyous array, all shining 
with many colors, the court of the princess — 
her damsels in waiting, gentlemen, ladies, pages, 

and attendants. And the sun shone with sur- 
passing brightness, and the river lay like a 
silver shield, darkened where the small winds 
breathed upon it ; and the swallows darted over 
the water, dipping here and there to touch its 
smooth surface ; and everything was so exceed- 
ingly cheerful with the beauty of the young 
autumn season that the heart of every one was 
expanded with entire joy. 

So those parties of the king and the Lady 
Guinevere drew nigh together until they met. 

Then straightway King Arthur dismounted 
from his noble horse, and, all clothed with 
royalty, he went afoot unto the Lady Guine- 
vere's litter, whilst Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine 
held the bridle of his horse. Thereupon one 
of her pages drew aside the silken curtains of 
the Lady Guinevere's litter, and King Leode- 
grance gave her his hand, and she straightway 
descended therefrom, all aglow, as it were, 
with her exceeding beauty. So King Leode- 
grance led her to King Arthur, and King 
Arthur came to her, and placed one hand be- 
neath her chin and the other upon her head, 
and inclined his countenance and kissed her 
upon her smooth cheek. And all those who 
were there lifted up their voices in great ac- 

Thus did King Arthur give welcome unto 
the Lady Guinevere and unto King Leode- 
grance her father upon the highway beneath 
the walls of the town of Camelot, at the dis- 
tance of half a league from that place. And 
no one who was there ever forgot that meeting, 
for it was full of extraordinary grace and noble 

Then King Arthur and his court of knights 
and nobles brought King Leodegrance and the 
Lady Guinevere with great ceremony unto 
Camelot, and thereby into the royal castle, 
where, befitting their several states, apartments 
were assigned unto all, so that the entire place 
was all alive with joyousness and beauty. 

And when high noon had come the entire 
court went with great state and ceremony unto 
the cathedral, and there, surrounded by won- 
derful magnificence, those two noble souls were 
married by the archbishop. 

And all the bells did ring right joyfully, and 
all the people who stood without the cathedral 




shouted with loud acclaim; and, lo! the king 
and the queen came forth all shining, he like 
unto the sun for splendor and she like unto the 
moon for beauty. 

In the castle a great noontide feast was 
spread, and there sat thereat four hundred 
eighty and six lordly and noble folk — kings, 
knights, and nobles, with queens and ladies in 
magnificent array. And near to the king and 
the queen there sat King Leodegrance, and 
Merlin, and Sir Ulfius, and Sir Ector the Trust- 
worthy, and Sir Gawaine, and Sir Ewaine, and 
Sir Kay, and King Ban, and King Pellinore, 
and many other famous and exalted folk — so 
that no man had before that time beheld such 
magnificent courtliness as they beheld at that 
famous wedding-feast of King Arthur and 
Queen Guinevere. So have I told it unto 
you, so that you might behold, however so 
dimly, how marvelously pleasant were those 
days in which dwelt King Arthur and his fa- 
mous court of knights. 

And that day was likewise very famous in 
the history of chivalry : for in the afternoon the 
famous Round Table was established ; and 
that Round Table was at once the very flower 
and the chiefest glory of King Arthur's reign. 

For about mid of the afternoon the king and 
queen, preceded by Merlin and followed by all 
that splendid court of kings, lords, nobles, and 
knights in full array, made progression to that 
certain place where Merlin, partly by magic 
and partly by skill, had caused to be builded 
a very wonderful pavilion about the Round 
Table where it stood. 

And when the king and the queen and the 
court had entered in thereat, they were amazed 
at the beauty of that pavilion, for they per- 
ceived, as it were, a great space that appeared 
to be a marvelous land of fay. For the walls 
were all richly gilded and were painted with 
very wonderful figures of saints and of" angels, 
clad in ultramarine and crimson. And all 
those saints and angels were depicted playing 
upon various musical instruments that appeared 
to be made of gold. And overhead the roof of 
the pavilion was made to represent the sky, 
being all of cerulean blue sprinkled over with 
stars. And in the midst of that painted sky 

was an image as it were of the sun in his 
glory. And underfoot was a pavement all of 
marble stone, set in small squares of black and 
white, and blue and red, and sundry other 

And in the midst of the pavilion was the 
famous Round Table, with seats thereat exactly 
sufficient for fifty persons. And the table was 
covered with a table-cloth of fine linen, as 
white as snow and embroidered at the hem 
with threads of silver. And at each of the 
fifty places was a chalice of gold filled with fra- 
grant wine, and at each place was a platter of 
gold bearing a manchet of fair white bread. 
And when the king and his court entered into 
the pavilion, lo! music began of a sudden for 
to play with a wonderful sweetness, so that the 
heart was overjoyed for to listen to it. 

Then Merlin came and took King Arthur by 
the hand and led him away from Queen Guine- 
vere. And he said unto the king : " Lo, Lord 
King! Behold, this is the Round Table." 

And King Arthur said : " Merlin, that which 
I see is wonderful beyond the telling." 

Then Merlin discovered unto the king the 
marvels of the Round Table. For first he 
pointed to a high seat, very wonderfully 
wrought in precious woods and gilded so that 
it was exceedingly beautiful, and he said : " Be- 
hold! Lord King, yonder seat is called the 
Seat Royal, and that seat is for thyself." 
And as Merlin spake, lo! there suddenly ap- 
peared sundry letters of gold above that seat, 
and the letters of gold read the name 

2lrtbur, IRfng. 

And Merlin said, " Lord, yonder seat may 
well be called the center seat of the Round 
Table, for, in sooth, thou art indeed the very 
center of all that is most worthy of true knight- 
liness. Wherefore that seat shall still be called 
the center seat of all the other seats." 

Then Merlin pointed to the seat that stood 
opposite to the Seat Royal, and that seat also 
was of a very wonderful appearance, being all 
of crimson and of azure inlaid with many cun- 
ning devices, and with figures of silver inset 
into the wood. And Merlin said unto the 
king : " My Lord King, that seat is named the 
Seat Perilous ; for no man but one in all this 

i 9 03-] 



world shall sit therein, and that man is not yet 
born upon the earth. And if any other man 
shall dare to sit therein that man shall either 
suffer death or a sudden and terrible misfor- 
tune for his temerity. Wherefore that seat is 
called the Seat Perilous." 

" Merlin," quoth the king, " all that thou 
tellest me passeth the bound of understanding 
for marvelousness. Now I do beseech thee in 
all haste for to find forthwith a sufficient num- 
ber of knights to fill this Round Table, so that 
my glory shall be entirely complete." 

" My lord," said Merlin, " I may not fill the 
Round Table for thee at this time. For, though 
thou hast gathered about thee the very noblest 
court of chivalry in all of Christendom, yet are 
there but two-and-thirty knights here present 
who may be considered worthy to sit at the 
Round Table." 

" Then, Merlin," quoth King Arthur, " I do 
desire of thee that thou shalt straightway choose 
me those two-and-thirty." 

" That will I do, Lord King," said Merlin. 

So Merlin cast his eyes around, and lo! he 
saw where King Pellinore stood at a little dis- 
tance. Unto him went Merlin and took him 
by the hand. " Behold, my Lord King," quoth 
he unto Arthur, "here is the knight in all of 
the world next to thyself who is at this time 
most worthy for to sit at this Round Table. 
For he is both exceedingly gentle of demeanor 
unto the poor and needy, and at the same time 
is so terribly strong and skilful that I know not 
whether thou or he is the more to be feared in 
an encounter of knight against knight." 

Then Merlin led King Pellinore forward, and 
behold! upon the high seat that stood upon 
the left hand of the Seat Royal there appeared 
of a sudden the name 


And the name was emblazoned in letters of 
gold that shone with extraordinary luster. And 
when King Pellinore took this seat great and 
loud acclaim long continued was given him by 
all those who stood round about. 

Now after Merlin had chosen King Arthur 
and King Pellinore, he chose from out of the 
court of King Arthur knights two-and-thirty in 
all, and they were knights of greatest renown 

in chivalry who did first establish the Round 
Table of King Arthur. 

And among these knights were Sir Gawaine 
and Sir Ewaine, who were nephews unto the 
king, and they sat nigh to him upon the right 
hand ; and there was Sir Ulfius (who held his 
place but a year and eight months unto the time 
of his death, after the which Sir Geharris, who 
was esquire unto his brother Sir Gawaine, 
held that seat) ; and there was Sir Kay the 
Seneschal, who was foster-brother unto the king; 
and there was Sir Baudwain of Britain (who 
held his place but three years and two months 
until his death, after the which Sir Agravaine 
held that seat) ; and there was Sir Pellias, and 
Sir Geraint, and many others, so that the world 
had never before seen such a splendid array of 
noble knights gathered together. 

And as each of these knights was chosen by 
Merlin, and as Merlin took that knight by the 
hand, lo ! the name of that knight suddenly ap- 
peared in golden letters, very bright and shin- 
ing, upon the chair that appertained to him. 

And when all had been chosen, behold! 
King Arthur saw that the seat upon the right 
hand of the Seat Royal had not been filled and 
that it bore no name upon it. And he said 
unto Merlin : " Merlin, how is this, that the seat 
upon my right hand hath not been filled and 
beareth no name ? " 

And Merlin said : " My lord, there shall be 
a name thereon in a very little while, and he 
who shall sit therein shall be the greatest knight 
in all the world until that knight cometh who 
shall occupy the Seat Perilous." 

And King Arthur said, " I would that he 
who shall sit at my right hand were with us 
now." And Merlin said, " He cometh anon." 

Thus was the Round Table established with 
great pomp and ceremony of estate. For first 
the Archbishop of Canterbury blessed each and 
every seat, progressing from place to place sur- 
rounded by his court, the choir whereof sang 
most musically in accord, whilst others swang 
censers from which there ascended a vapor of 
frankincense, filling that entire pavilion as with 
an odor of heavenly blessedness. 

And when the archbishop had thus blessed 
every one of those seats, the chosen knights 
took each his stall at the Round Table, and 



his esquire came and stood behind him, hold- 
ing the banneret with his coat of arms upon 
the spear-point above the knight's head. And 
all those who stood about that place, both 
knights and ladies, lifted up their voices in 
loud acclaim. 

Then all the knights arose, and each knight 
held up before him the cross of the hilt of his 
sword, and each knight spake word for word 
as King Arthur spake. And this was the cove- 
nant of their knighthood of the Round Table : 
that they should be gentle unto the weak ; 
that they should be courageous unto the strong ; 
that they should be terrible unto the wicked 
and the evil-doers ; that they should defend 
the helpless who should call upon them for 
aid ; that all women should be held unto them 
sacred ; that they should stand unto the de- 
fense of one another whensoever such defense 
should be required ; that they should be mer- 
ciful unto all men ; that they should be gentle 
of deed, true in friendship, and faithful in love. 

This was the covenant unto which each 
knight vowed upon the cross of his sword, and 
in witness thereof did kiss the hilt thereof, and 

thereupon all those present once more gave 
loud acclaim. Then did all the knights of 
the Round Table seat themselves, and each 
knight brake bread from the golden paten and 
quaffed wine from the golden chalice that stood 
before him; giving thanks unto God for that 
which he ate and drank. 

Thus was King Arthur wedded unto Queen 
Guinevere ; and thus was the Round Table 
established. Wherefore all these things have I 
told unto you that ye might know how that 
glorious order of knighthood was first estab- 

And King Arthur was exceedingly uplifted 
with the great joy that possessed him. Where- 
fore he commanded that all of Camelot should 
be feasted at his expense. 

And he also proclaimed that there should be 
feasting and jousting in his court for three days. 

And so endeth this part of the story. And 
now shall I tell you the adventures of certain 
of those noble knights of the Round Table ; 
and the first of all that I shall tell you shall be 
the story of Sir Gawaine. 

{To be continued.) 

7^ r 




Doubtless many of the girl readers of St. Nicholas, who have also read and enjoyed " Little Women," will 
be interested in the following letter, written thirty years ago to two young girls of that day, who had sent a letter 
to Miss Alcott herself, asking if the characters in "Little Women" were real persons, and if the story were true. 
In due time they received the following letter in reply. — Editor. 

So "Meg," with her big mouth and homely- 
nose, shines forth quite a darling, and no doubt 
all the " little women " who read of her admire 

Concord, January 20, 187 1. 

Dear Julia and Alice: From your note 
to Miss Alcott I infer that you are not aware 
that she is at present in Italy, having gone 
abroad in April last, with the intention of re- 
maining a year or more, trying to get well. 
But knowing how pleased she would be with 
your friendly note, I think perhaps a word 
from sister " Meg " will be better than leaving 
it unanswered, and far better than that any 
" little woman " should feel that " Jo " was 
unkind or ungrateful. 

Of course you know that neither " Meg " 
nor " Jo " are young and pretty girls now, but 
sober old women, nearly forty years of age, full 
of cares and troubles like other people; and 
that although nearly every event in the book 
is true, of course things did not happen exactly 
as they are there set down. 

You ask if " Amy " is not May Alcott, and I 
can truly say she is her very self, and she is the 
only one of the " Little Women " who would, I 
think, realize your ideal drawn from the story. 
She is, indeed, " Lady Amy," and a fair and 
noble woman, full of graces and accomplish- 
ments, and, what is better far, a pure and gen- 
erous heart. " Jo," " Beth," and " Amy " are 
all drawn from life, and are entirely truthful 
pictures of the three dear sisters who played 
and worked, loved and sorrowed together so 
many years ago. Dear " Beth " — or Louie, as 
we called her — died, after long suffering, twelve 
years since. She was a sweet and gentle crea- 
ture, and her death was so great a sorrow to 
poor "Jo" that she has never been quite happy 
since her "conscience " was laid away under the 
pines of Sleepy Hollow. " Meg " was never 
the pretty vain little maiden, who coquetted 
and made herself so charming. But " Jo " al- 
ways admired poor, plain " Meg," and when 
she came to put her into the story, she beauti- 
fied her to suit the occasion, saying, " Dear me, 
girls, we must have one beauty in the book!" 

her just as loving old "Jo" does, and think her 
quite splendid. But, for all that, she is nothing 
but homely, busy, and, I hope, useful "Annie" 
who writes this letter to you. 

As for dear old " Jo " herself, she was just 
the romping, naughty, topsy-turvy tomboy that 
all you little girls have learned to love ; and 
even now, when care and sickness have made 
her early old, she is at heart the same loving, 
generous girl. In " Little Women " she has 
given a very truthful story of her haps and 
mishaps, her literary struggles and successes, 
and she is now enjoying her well-earned honors 
and regaining her health in travel with her 
sister Amy. They are spending the winter 
in Rome, in a delightful circle of artists, receiv- 
ing attentions and honors that make proud the 
heart of the sister left behind. " Amy " is in 
the studio of a well-known painter, working 
hard to perfect herself in her chosen art, while 
" Jo " is resting and gaining strength and cour- 
age for her promised "Little Men," of which I 
imagine " Meg's " boys, Freddie and Johnnie, 
are to be the heroes. 

You inquire about " Laurie." The character 
was drawn partly from imagination, but more 
perhaps from a very nice boy Louisa once 
knew, whose good looks and "wheedlesome" 
ways first suggested to her the idea of putting 
him into a book. She has therefore put upon 
him the love-making and behavior of various 
adorers of her youthful days. 

Dear little friends, if I have told you all you 
wish to know, and shown that you need have 
no fear of being thought " intrusive," perhaps 
sometime you will honor " Meg " herself with 
a letter. 

Be assured she will be glad to hear from any 
of the " little women." Sincerely yours, 

Annie Alcott Pratt. 



Old Ivan (John) goes out into the garden to pull 
a turnip for dinner. 

The ground is hard and the roots are long, so his 
wife Masha (Mary) conies out to help him. 

Seeing their distress their little daughter Varka (Barbara) 
comes to the rescue, and 

Thinking it is a new game that is being played, their little dog Moska joins in, 




While the cat Briska looks on all unconscious of a very tender 
and tempting mouse just behind her. 

Then with a long pull and a strong pull and a pull all together — up the turnip comes. 

Vol. XXX. 

But all 's well that ends well, and around old Ivan they crowd and rejoice 
in the prospect of a savory dinner well earned. 


Xhe Dancing Class. 

Estker H. Staples. 

One, Wo, tKe professor said. 
"And again, a one two three. 
One ,two, and a one Wo three, 
Is the polka lime " said he . 

"One ,two, three , professor said, 
"And a§ain a one two three. 
One , two , three , and one , two , three, 
Is the waltjino time said he . 




<imm^C: /■;. 





By Helen S. Daley. 

Gwendolen Jones was chubby and sweet, Harold Percival Marmaduke Smith 

And her age was half-past three ; Up to the field marched he ; 

And she lived in a house on Wellington Street, But his eye was blacked, and his head was 
In the yard with the walnut-tree. whacked, 

And his ball no more did he see. 

And the boys called him " Baby " because he 
Did Teddy and Willie and Tim, 
And they chased him away when he threatened 
to tell, 
And said they 'd " no use for him." 

Harold Percival Marmaduke Smith 

Was almost half-past four; 
And he said, when they gave him a baseball 
and bat, 

That he 'd " play with the girls no more." 

Gwendolen Jones she gazed through the 
At an end were all life's joys, 
As she saw the friend of her youth depart 
" To play with the great big boys." 

Gwendolen Jones came down to the fence, 
And her face wore a joyful smile 

When Harold Percival Marmaduke said 
He 'd play with her " once in a while." 



By John Russell Coryell. 

When an artist friend of mine was asked 
some time ago to make a picture of a spar- 
row for St. Nicholas^ he fancied, as indeed 

f one might, that 
it would be easy 

would stand still long enough to be sketched. 
But it soon became evident to him that just 
that kind of sparrow had not come over to 
this country. One day he said to me : 

" Let us go to Flatbush. Perhaps some of 

the boys out there can catch a sparrow 

for me ; country boys understand such 

things much better than city 

boys do." 

So one lovely day in 

early summer we went 

to Flatbush, which 

'the whole roof of the veranda had the appearance of having been visited by a cyclone." (see page 640.) 

enough to procure a sparrow for a model. He 
said to himself, " I will ask some of the boys 
on my block to get a live sparrow for me." 

The boys confidently answered, "Oh, yes; 
we '11 get you one. When do you want it ? " 
You may see from this how easy a matter they 
also thought it. And off they went. But the 
days passed with no tidings from the confi- 
dent hunters. 

Then my friend appealed to all his acquain- 
tances. They one and all said they had no 
doubt they could contrive to get him a spar- 
row. Not one of them did contrive it, how- 
ever, and he was no nearer to having his 
model than before. 

By this time he had become quite despon- 
dent, and might have been seen wandering 
through the streets of Brooklyn with his sketch- 
book in his hand, trying to find a sparrow that 

always has been famous for its pretty villas and 
ferocious mosquitos, and which henceforth will 
be noted as the home of a boy who caught an 
English sparrow. The boy's name was Wilhelm, 
and we found him unwillingly removing the 
weeds from his mother's vegetable-garden. 

We leaned on the fence and watched him for 
a while, and a kind of instinct seemed to tell us 
that a boy who had such a marked lack of in- 
terest in weeds would be the very boy to 
capture a sparrow. My artist friend shouted 
" Hello ! " by way of attracting his attention 
from the game of mumble-the-peg with which 
he was beguiling the time between weeds, so 
to speak. Wilhelm satisfactorily accomplished 
the difficult " reversed back-hand," and then 
looked up. 

" I want a live sparrow," said the artist. 
" Do you think you can catch one for me ? " 




The boy studied first my friend, and then 
me, and finally he said, " I don't know," and 
turned to make the next most difficult throw in 
his mumble-peg game. 

But we were not to be thus put off. " I '11 
give you ten cents for a live sparrow," I said, 
just as the throw was about to be made. 

" Will you ? " demanded Wilhelm, desisting 
from mumble-the-peg. " When ? " 

" As soon as you give me the sparrow." 

" Can you come up to-morrow ? " 

" Yes. I want it uninjured, you know." 

" I don't know about that," was the reply. 

" I mean you must n't hurt the sparrow." 

" Oh ! All right ; I won't." 

It was impossible not to have confidence in 
a boy who displayed such skill at mumble-the- 
peg, and therefore it was with great hopeful- 
ness that we went to Flatbush the following 
day. But Wilhelm had not yet caught the 
sparrow. We ought to have been discouraged 
in consequence ; but we were not, for Wilhelm 
bore himself with an air 
of indifference that sim- 
ply inspired greater con- 
fidence than ever. 

Then, to give added 
zest to the search, my 
friend said : 

"I will give you twenty- 
five cents for a sparrow." 

" Can you come up 
to-morrow ? " demanded 
Wilhelm, as if he had 
never said the same thing 

" No," replied the ar- 
tist. " Here is a two- 
cent stamp. Send me 
word when you have 
caught the sparrow." 

There was no doubt in 
our minds that Wilhelm 
could catch a sparrow if 
he would ; the only ques- 
tion was, would he? The next morning's mail 
answered that question, for it brought a letter 
from Wilhelm which deserves to go on record : 

Mr. Nugant I hav cot a sparow bring the mony 
and com get it Wilhelm. 

Fault might be found with the spelling and 
punctuation of the letter, but there could be no 
mistaking Wilhelm's meaning. He had the 
sparrow, and he stood ready to exchange it for 
the sum of money agreed upon. We were filled 
with joy, and we hastened to Flatbush. Wil- 
helm led us into the cottage and showed us a 
cage with two sparrows in it. My friend looked 
at them with a carefulness born of a slight ex- 
perience of Wilhelm. 

" Why, they are young ones ! " he exclaimed 

" Are they ? " asked Wilhelm, as if he were 
surprised. And then he added, as if he were 
not at all surprised : " That 's what you wanted, 
was n't it ? " 

He was told that what was wanted was a 
full-grown sparrow ; and after some further con- 
versation Wilhelm promised to put the little 
ones back in their nest, and to get an old one, 
for the sum of fifty cents, that sum being fixed 
upon in view of the fact that if a young one 


was worth twenty-five cents, an old one must 
be worth twice as much. The argument was 
all Wilhelm's, and he seemed so much pleased 
with it that Mr. Nugent did not combat it. 
About a week after this fruitless visit to our 



bird-catcher extraordinary, we received the fol- 
lowing message written in the cramped hand 
that we had begun to know. 

Mr. Nugant I hav fiv bring the mony WlLHELM 

This note was somewhat bewildering at the 
first reading. Full of hope we hurried out to 
Flatbush once more. 

"They are tearing the house down," said 
the artist, as we approached the cottage. 

It certainly did look so. A grape-arbor, 
which had shaded the front of the house and 
made it look very inviting as well, had been 
thrown down; the gutter of the house had 
been torn loose and hung by a nail, and nu- 
merous shingles were lying scattered about. 
The whole roof of the veranda had the ap- 
pearance, as we inspected it more closely, of 
having been visited by a cyclone. The debris 
could scarcely have been more scattered if men 
had been employed to take the house to pieces. 
Wilhelm sat on a piece of what he called the 
" cornish." My friend shouted to him: 

"What's the matter with the house,Wilhelm? " 

"That 's where I got the sparrows," was 
the answer; and such was our confidence in 
that Flatbush boy that we believed him, and 
from that moment wished we had never dis- 
turbed him from his game of mumble-the-peg. 
He discovered that some sparrows had made 
their home in a crevice of the veranda-roof, 
and forthwith had enlisted the assistance of 
several of his companions, and had captured 
the birds, with the result to the house as seen. 

" Come into the house and see the sparrows," 
said Wilhelm, with that cheerfulness which only 
a boy can maintain under such circumstances. 
" I 've got five — all old ones." 

" Bring them out here," said my friend. 

Neither of us would have deliberately faced 
the mother of Wilhelm for any consideration, 
and she was a very pleasant German woman, 
too. But we might as well have gone in, for 
she came out with Wilhelm in a moment. We 
made ourselves as small as we could and pre- 
pared heroically for what would come. 

" Have you the money ? " were her first 
words, and we thought she meant money to 
pay for the repairs to the house. 

" It was fifty cents," said Wilhelm. 

" Here is the money," said the artist with 
great presence of mind. 

" Get the sparrows, Wilhelm," said the good 

Wilhelm brought the sparrows, we transferred 
two to a cage of our own, — Wilhelm insisted that 
we should take two, — and then we went our 
way, rejoicing not a bit more in our birds than 
did the enterprising woman and her son in their 
fifty cents. 

We were very glad that the destruction of 
the roof weighed so lightly on the minds of 
the good woman and her thrifty boy ; but it 
was not so with us. We could not help think- 
ing of it, and one day we went out to have 
another look at the cottage, fully expecting to 
see it sinking into ruins. But instead of that 
we found it shining with new paint and so thor- 
oughly repaired that it looked like a brand- 
new cottage. Even the fence around the gar- 
den had been renewed and painted a rich 
vegetable green. All but one of the grape-vines 
had been torn up by the roots in order that 
they should not mar the spick-and-span appear- 
ance of the cottage. 

Wilhelm's mother saw us and knew us. She 
shouted to us, and we approached. She ran 
into the house, and presently came out again, 
holding some pieces of paper in her hand. She 
thrust the papers at us, and we took them and 
read them. They were bills from the carpenter 
and the painter for the repairs, and our hearts 
sank as we read that our fifty-cent sparrow had 
cost the good woman nearly as many dollars. 

Our first thought was that we were to be 
held responsible for the damage ; but it was soon 
evident that it was only excess of joy that 
troubled the mistress of the cottage, and by 
degrees we learned that she had received a 
legacy from the old country which made her a 
rich woman as compared with her former estate. 
This enabled her easily to make good the injury 
done by her son. She was as grateful to us as 
if we had been in some way concerned in the 

We met Wilhelm as we were going away, and 
he wanted to know if we were looking for an- 
other sparrow. We said no, for there was an 
expression on the boy's face that said he would 
tear down the new house for another fifty cents. 


It is the merry month of May. 
The organ-grinder comes this way ; 
He plays gay tunes for me and you, 
And brings his monkey, too. 

The monkey wears a smiling face, 
And jacket trimmed with fine gold lace ; 
He clambers over gate or fence, 
And holds his cap for pence. 

How very funny it would be 
If he were I and I were he! 
I would n't like to have it so ; 
Perhaps he 'd like it, though. 

Carolyn Wells. 



1 * 

Vol. XXX.— 8i. 



By Theodore R. Davis. 

Most young folks who have in their house a 
little baby sister or brother no doubt have often 
seen the little tot get his weekly weighing, and 
have noticed how proud their parents are when 
each week shows a gain over the last. But 
after a few months, when baby begins to find a 
use for his hands, and seems to know his older 
sisters and brothers, nobody appears to take 
any interest in his weight, for he is getting along 


so nicely that this no longer seems as impor- 
tant as it did at first. 

But there is something about the baby that 
the whole family will be interested in watching 
until he is really grown up, and that is in seeing 
how fast he grows in height. 

No doubt some of you have been measured 
by standing up against a closet door, and then, 
in the course of a year or so, perhaps, against 

the wall ; but you have forgotten what you 
measured before, for it did not seem quite right 
to mark up the woodwork or wall-paper, and 
so you could not tell how fast you grew. 

Now, to make this easier and a great deal 
more interesting, some families have a tall board 
fastened to the wall in one of the rooms of the 
house, and on this board the heights of the vari- 
ous members of the family are marked. This 
measure-board may be a very plain affair or 
as elaborate as you please. A simple and in- 
expensive one that will answer every purpose 
is made of a piece of board about six inches 
wide and seven feet high. Almost any kind of 
wood will do, but perhaps cherry will be the 
most satisfactory. In any case it must be thor- 
oughly seasoned, so that it will not shrink, and 
it will be well to have it either finished in lin- 
seed-oil or given a light coat of varnish or 
shellac in order that the wood may not be 
easily soiled. 

The person to be measured stands with his 
back and heels close to the board and with chin 
level. The old-fashioned way of laying a 
ruler or a table knife on top of the head and 
making a scratch on the door or wall is not a 
very accurate way, because if you should hap- 
pen to tilt the ruler either up or down, your 
measurement will be too much or too little, 
and it is very difficult to hold it exactly level. 
Therefore the best way is to take a book, or, 
better yet, a small framed picture, and press 
one edge firmly against the measure-board a 
few inches above the person's head, and then 
slowly lower it until the under edge rests upon 
the top of the head ; then mark the place where 
this horizontal edge touches the board. Now 
make a mark with a penknife or drive a 
small-headed brass nail at the spot, and op- 
posite it mark the name of the person. The 
name can be cut by a penknife, making the 
letters with single hair-line strokes, with no at- 
tempt at carving ; or a simpler way would be 
to print the name with a hard lead-pencil, 




lightly at first and then going over the marks need be shown. This rule can be made by a 

several times, bearing more heavily on the pen- 
cil each time. The wood will not be too hard 
to allow of a fairly deep impression that will 
not rub out. It will be found that, if there are 
a number of children in the family, their height- 

lead-pencil, as explained for the lettering. Such 
a rule always on the board has the advantage 
not only of showing the young folks' height in 
feet and inches, but it can be used to measure 
the height of your playmates and visitors whose 


marks may happen to come close together, so 
that the names will have to be placed some- 
times to the right and sometimes to the left of 
the center of the board in which the height is 
recorded. A most convenient addition to the 
board is made by drawing on its face, but close 
to the edge, short lines numbering the feet and 
inches, beginning of course at the bottom — 
something like a yard-stick, only nothing 
smaller than inches, or at most half-inches, 

measurements you do not care to mark on the 
board ; for, be it remembered, the board is to 
contain only the heights of the family. 

A friend who has had one of these measure- 
boards in his family for many years writes 
us of his experience with it. From the pic- 
tures you will see that his was a very elaborate 
affair ; for, as he tells us, it was an important 
piece of their furniture, and they spared no 
pains to make it as fine as they could. He says : 




"An old-time family clock stands in 
our dining-room, measuring minutes and 
hours with perfect accuracy so long as 
the person who generally winds it is at 
home. But when he is absent the old 
clock behaves badly. First the moon 
goes wrong, then the days of the month 
become mixed, the clock strikes one 
hundred, and probably the long 39-inch 
pendulum, which should tick a second 
at every swing, ceases to move, and the 
old clock is as silent as the tall black- 
walnut board which, dotted over with 
measures of years, stands beside it. 
This board is a curious family record 
which no mother or father sees without 
saying that they would be very glad to 
have such a measure-board, but that such 
an idea had never occurred to them. 

" It is probable that it would not have 
entered my mind to have a measure- 
board if I had not looked at and puzzled 
over the many cuts, notches, and little 
round holes which made a doorway in my 
grandfather's New England home look 
like an Indian's totem-stick. It was 
entirely guess-work to select the cut 
which was made by my own first jack- 
knife to mark its owner's height at five 
years of age, or which one of the round 
holes punched by grandmother's spin- 
ning-wheel spindle shows my inches at 
an earlier age. Most of the marks on 
that door-post are for the heights of my 30 
uncles, aunts, and cousins at different 
ages. But which is which there is no 
one now living who can tell. It is a 
family puzzle without any key. And this 
is the reason why I brought a measure- 
board to my own home some years ago. 

" Our measure-board is of walnut, and 
has a deer's antlers and a shield at its top 
as a decoration. Beneath these is my 
own and my wife's monogram, and under 
that the year of our wedding ; the dif- 
ferent initials show the height of myself, 
my mother, and my wife. That the 
children's heights do not all commence, 
as they should, at one year is because the 
board did not come into use until the 




15. Carrie 


RusiaL fl:j U Eif, 








teELl£ J "" E 


lE0 N «# JUl,E 






eldest of our little folks was three 
years old, and it was too late for all 
the one-year marks. But bright and 
early each birthday morning since the 
board has been in position the owner 
of the birthday has stood up, back to 
the board, and been measured. 

" One friend who has recently set up 
a measure-board is so fortunate as to be 
able to have the heights of the four 
grandparents of his one-year-old baby, 
as well as that of himself and wife, to 
start with. In the story told by our 
board we find that one daughter grew 
more during a year that she was kept in 
the house by illness than during any 
other year ; and we see that between 
twelve and thirteen the girls grow faster 
than at any other time except during 
their first, second, and third years, and 
between fifteen and sixteen is the year 
that the boy starts upward most rapidly; 
and that fifteen is the age when girls 
make a halt in growing ; and that twenty- 
nine inches is about the average height 
of the little ones at one year old. 

" It is curious to watch the varying 
growth of the children. At some years 
all the names are clustered near one 
point ; for instance, the six and five year 
olds are so close together as to crowd 
one another. Next there is a six above a 
seven, and later on an eleven leads both 
a twelve and thirteen. All of this is so 
plainly seen in the illustration of the 
board that a glance at it will show you 
how some of the little folks have grown 
until they are as tall as their mother. 

"At Christmas-time the measure-board 
has its special decoration — generally a 
holly branch glowing with red berries ; 
and something like a family council is 
required to arrange this branch to the 
satisfaction of all, for in this one thing 
each has an equal interest." 

Here, then, is something that any in- 
genious boy can make, something that 
will be a source of continuing interest 
for his sisters and brothers and parents 
and himself for many years to come. 


Written and Illustrated by M. O. Kobbe. 


Just six years to-day I have lived in the world 
With my hair like a girl's — all twisted and 

curled ; 
And the boys on the street, when I pass 

them, all cry : 
" Hey ! look at the curly-locks, girly-locks guy ! " 

Well, I 've taken those hateful old curls oft 

And now, when they meet me, we '11 see what 

they say ! 


No wonder my dolly 

Looks gay and glad — 
She has nothing in life 
To make her sad ; 
And any child can be glad and gay 
If it only is dressed in a sensible way. 

She is n't squeezed up 
In a great long coat 
Too loose in the sleeves 

And too tight round the throat, 
With a bow in front that gets in the way 
Every time she goes out with her friends to play. 

And she does n't wear shoes 

That pinch her toes, 
Or a hat that flies 

When a strong wind blows. 

Fine clothes are too fine for every day, 

And they 're so in the way when you try to play! 



By C. R. Hoagland. 

Bobby Boy is blowing bubbles, 
Blowing big, bright, bouncing bubbles. 
Bobby Boy had many troubles; 
Mama said, " Come, let 's blow bubbles ; 
Blow your troubles in the bubbles. 
Troubles go as bubbles do : 
Bubbles vanish — troubles too." 

So Bobby Boy is blowing bubbles, 
Blowing big, bright, bouncing bubbles. 
6 4 6 


lt^ " 

AM \ 
t" \ 

'<\ Hi A 

1 c^y^s 




Mature and Science ™*^ ng 


BY \^_J 


"The loon is one of our largest water-fowl, two or three times as large as the 
common duck ; it is an ungainly bird, but a wonderful diver and swimmer under 


Km-chunk, ah-c/umk, aih-chunk. 

What is that strange sound that comes up 
from the marsh in April, like the coughing of 
a deep-throated, old-fashioned pump, or the 
hollow thump of oars between the thole-pins 
of a flat-bottomed scow ? It is the spring note 
of that awkward, long-necked, long-legged 
bird, the bittern — its love-song, too ! Think 
of making love with such a gulp as that ! 

Often, as a boy, I have stood on the long 
slope above the marsh in spring, and wondered 
what that mysterious 
sound might be. It 
seemed to come from 
everywhere — from no- 
where in particular. 
For the bittern is a 
great ventriloquist. 
Perhaps the art of 
ventriloquism was first 
learned from him. 

How the hollow 
sound fills the whole 
marsh! One would 
hardly know where to 
search for the bird that 
is making it, hidden 
somewhere in those 
miles of coarse grass, 
even if one had seven- 


"That awkward, long-necked, long-legged bird, the bittern." 

league rubber boots, and could wade faster 
than the wind travels over the marsh. 

Another mysterious sound of the spring is 
that wild, mocking, crazy laugh that floats up 
from mountain lakes soon after the ice has 
gone out. It is not often heard in the low- 





lands, but the girls and boys who live in the 
hill country know this sound of the loon's 
laugh — one of the strangest, saddest sounds in 
nature, so like a human laugh, and yet so 
heartless, mocking, and unearthly. The loon 
is one of our largest water-fowl, two or three 
times as large as the common duck ; it is an 
ungainly bird, but a wonderful diver and swim- 
mer under water. It is as wild and shy as its 
mocking call is weird and mysterious. 

Often, on a warm, still spring night, a plain- 
tive, quavering, long-drawn cry may be heard 
floating across the fields. This is Master 
Skunk's announcement that he is coming to 
inspect our chicken-coops and rabbit- 
hutches. For so sly and expert a thief 
he is wonderfully frank about giving 
warning. There is, however, a mourn- 
ful, begging note in the cry, as much 
as to say : " You don't know 

Later in the spring, when the nights begin 
to be warm and close, a harsh, hoarse, start- 
ling scream will be heard from some grove or 
solitary tree in the fields. One might easily be 
frightened at the sound ; and yet it is nothing 
but the tree-toad with his usual spring call. 
That such a small, inoffensive creature should 
produce so threatening a sound is almost as 
amusing as it is strange. 

One of the most mysterious sounds of the 


how hungry I am! Please let me have just 
one plump young chicken ! " 

Who has not heard that spring " drummer in 
the woods," with his long, rolling reveille, in- 
creasing in rapidity with every tap of the fly- 
ing drumsticks, until the beats run together in 
a blur of sound, as if the drum had dropped 
and was rumbling away over the ground ? 
Every country boy knows that this sound, so 
mysterious to city visitors, is produced by the 
ruffed grouse as he stands erect on some log 
or stump, beating his wings against his inflated 
sides — at once a love-call and a challenge to 
other cock grouse "who would a-wooing go." 

Vol. XXX.— 82-83. 

spring night is the thin, far-off piping of count- 
less birds that are migrating, high in air, to 
their Northern homes. It is like a fairy chorus, 
that chirping of the little travelers. 

On moonlight nights one may sometimes 
see with a strong field-glass the tiny pilgrims 
streaming across the disk of the moon in wav- 
ing, wire-like lines. This is a sight almost as 
interesting and well worth watching for as 
an eclipse. Look for it, girls and boys, the 
next time you hear those mysterious, piping 
voices on some calm, clear moonlight night in 

James Buckham. 

6 5 o 




I had been watching the herring for an hour 
or more as they struggled through the sluice to 
the dam. The fall of the water over the gates 


was unusually heavy that day, as was also the 
run of herring. For a week they had been 
straggling in from the sea, but to-day they 
poured in by thousands. The stream was 

Something — their increased numbers and 
greater rivalry, perhaps — had noticeably excited 

the fish. They seemed electric with it. Per- 
haps this school had been delayed by the cold 
April weather, and now must reach the pond 
to lay their eggs and were in a hurry. What- 
ever the cause, they certainly seemed to be in 
a hurry, for I had never seen them 
scramble over the shoals and over one 
another in quite this rush before. 

The unusual excitement was less mani- 
fest in their mad rush upstream than in 
their still madder rush at the falls. On 
any running day a few of the stronger, 
bolder fish, finding their way barred by a 
four-foot dam, try to climb over through 
the down-pouring sheet of water. The 
vast majority, however, — not unlike, I 
suppose, the majority of men, — coming 
to the impossible barrier, stop in the easy 
pen built for them beneath the falls, and 
are content to be scooped out, for pick- 
ling and fishbait, most of them, though 
a few are carried up in barrels to the 

But to-day it was different. Instead 
of the usual few there were many fight- 
ing to get over. I had watched them 
time and time again, but had never seen 
one pass the four feet of sheer falling 
water. In " Wild Life Near Home " I 
have described how they would dart 
through the foam into the great sheet of 
water, strike it like an arrow, rise straight 
up through it, hang an instant in mid- 
fall, and be hurled back and killed, often, 
on the rocks beneath. 

To-day I felt a new thrill as I watched 
them. Something of the evident excite- 
ment among the fish possessed me. I 
somehow knew that, as the horsemen 
put it, " The track was faster to-day " — 
that the swimmers were on their mettle, 
A ' that a record would be broken. 

The falls were all a-fiash and a-glitter 
with the darting fishes. Not only was there a 
greater number in the contest : there was also 
a much higher average jump than usual. Over 
and over again one would get within half a 
foot of the lip of the gate. 

Soon I noticed that it seemed to be a cer- 
tain fish that made this highest mark. I fob 



lowed her as she fell back/and, though 
it was impossible through the foam 
and thick rush of other forms to keep 
her in sight, yet I am sure that each 
time she rose it was with a peculiar 
bound showing a particularly long, 
lithe body. And each time she fell, 
-peculiar good luck attended, or else 
it Avas that her superior sense and 
training served her, for each time 
she landed just between or just 
beyond the rocks. 

Again she flashed through the foam, 
and hung, fixed like a silver arrow, 
in the dark water just below the edge. 
Again she fell. I was excited. Flash ! 
flash ! flash ! a score of the shining 
ones shot into the falls, when over 
them, above them, flashed the long, 
lithe form of the winner, striking one 
of the weaker rivals beneath her just 
as she reached her highest mark, and 
bounding sidewise from her, glanced 
over the dam and was gone. 

The record was broken, and within 
five minutes, by the same curious 
hap, another turned her silver side 
over the great hurdle and dived into 
the quiet pool beyond. 

It is a rather paradoxical state of 
things that creatures like these fish 
hate cloudy, cold weather and rain, 
and will not leave the ocean will- 
ingly for the shallow fresh waters un- 
less the sun shines and the wind suits 
and the temperature is to their liking. 
There is some reason for the chickens' 
staying in when it rains ; but what need have 
herring of umbrellas? Dallas Lore Sharp. 



So much is said regarding the migration of 
birds that we are apt to make the mistake of 
thinking that birds are the only form of animal 

life that migrates. 


Sometimes it \s swimming, sometimes jumping, sometimes flopping, and again 
climbing. In fact, it 's almost any way to get there. 

very interestingly called our attention to the 
often overlooked fact of the migration of fishes. 
It is not, however, with fishes only that the 
adults come to us in the spring. We have 
also at least one variety of butterfly that is 
regarded as migratory. Of the well known 
" Monarch," Dr. W. J. Holland writes : 

It is believed by writers that with the advent of cold 
weather these butterflies migrate to the South, that the 
chrysalids and caterpillars which may be undeveloped 
at the time of the frosts are destroyed, and that when 
these insects reappear, as they do every summer, they 
represent a wave of migration coming northward from 

The Rev. Mr. Sharp has the warmer regions of the Gulf States. 

6 5 2 




Several kinds of in- 
sects have sharp jaws for 
cutting holes in wood. 
Some make queer mark- 
ings in intricate and 
beautiful patterns just 
beneath the bark of de- 
caying trunks. Others 
bore smooth and even 
holes of about the diame- 
ter of a lead-pencil, deep 
into the tree. Some in- 
sects make these holes or 
intricate net-work of pas- 
sages for homes where 
they may live and be 
protected from storms. 


From a photograph supplied by the Ameiican Museum of Natu- 
ral History, New York City, from a specimen contributed by Henry 
van Hoevenberg, Adirondack Lodge, North Elba, New York. 


Others not only cut the wood but use the chips 
for food. 

It is interesting to pull up the bark and 
break off clumps of the decaying wood to see 
the variety of insects that scurry out, terrified 
by the noise and unexpected blaze of light. 

It would require no great amount of imagi- 
nation to regard some clusters as villages, with 
winding streets, and here and there a path 
"across lots" — perhaps for going visiting by 
shorter routes than " around the road." 

Then again we find perforations of such ex- 
traordinary form that they look like tiny palaces 
built by fairy architects. Sometimes the chan- 
nels lie just beneath the bark, partly in this 
and partly in the wood, 
bark is peeled off the 
work of the wood-cut- 
ters has the appear- 
ance of fanciful etch- 
ings. The insects 
especially fond of this 
kind of labor are 
called engraver-bee- 
tles ; others make 
holes not by their 


jaws but by a long, wood-boring larva. 

, ... ,., Drawn from view magnified by aid 

Grill-like apparatus. ofa compound microscope. 

so that when the 





how woodchucks climb trees. 

Algona, Iowa. 
Dear St. Nicholas: In reading St. Nicholas I 
came across an article about woodchucks climbing trees, 
and I made up my mind to write you about an experi- 
ence of this kind which I had. One day I was walking 
across a pasture with another boy and a fox-terrier, when 
we suddenly heard a shrill whistle from a large pile of 
brush not far away. The dog soon drove a "chuck" out 
of the pile, and it ran up a tree a few feet away. The 
tree was a box-elder about six inches in diameter, and 
the woodchuck climbed clear to the top. But he did 
not climb like a cat, but more like a boy would do in 
climbing a larger tree, clinging by "all fours." The 
branches began about eight feet from the ground, and 
the woodchuck climbed this distance up the smooth 
trunk of the tree very rapidly. This was the first time 
I had ever known that woodchucks could climb in this 

This is a very rare observation, and evidently- 
correct. The woodchuck's claws are not sharp 
enough for climbing in the scratch-into-the- 
bark style of the cat. 

the meadow-lark. 

Scranton, Pa. 

Dear St. Nicholas : This bird is one of the best 
known of the blackbird and oriole family, as any 
grassy meadow which is not traversed too frequently 
will almost invariably contain a flock of meadow- 
larks. They arrived here on March 7, or a day 
earlier, last spring, and at once took possession 
of their old fields and nesting-grounds. It may 
be remarked that the lark is classed, on good 
authority, as a permanent resident. If this is 
true they must rove about in the fall, and leave their 
fields, for I observed carefully a field well stocked 
with meadow-larks, near this place, in the autumn, win- 
ter, and spring, — 1901-1902, — and there was not one in 
the vicinity after November 15, nor did they reappear 
until March 7. Of course my observations were limited 
to this place, but I have heard testimony from other 
places that none were seen there in the winter. 

The flight of the lark suggests that of the quail, on 
account of the decurved wings ; but the white outer 
tail-feathers of the meadow-lark, so conspicuous in 
flight, are a distinguishing mark. 

The call of the lark, usually given when alarmed, is 
a rasping shrank! shrank! followed by a long-drawn 
twittering te-t-t-t-t-t-t-t. There is also a low quit, which 
I have heard only a few times, and then only when 
quite near the bird. The song is a high, clear, sliding 
whistle, in two parts. 

H. Esty Dounce (age 13). 

Most meadow-larks migrate to the South. 
A few remain in the New England and Mid- 
dle States during the winter. This bird and our 
bobolink are the best two singers of the low- 
lands. "The bobolink mood is one of care- 
free happiness ; the meadow-lark's suggests the 
fervent joy that is akin to pain," says Florence 
Merriam Bailey. 

The meadow-lark's song has been well trans- 
lated as " a clear, piercing whistle, spring <?' the 
y-e-a-r, spring 0' tJie year! " 


Drawn by H. Esty Dounce (age 13). 

preservation of the mammoth. 

Ferguson, Mo. 
Dear St. Nicholas : Here is a question that has 
been puzzling some of your readers. How was the 
mammoth of northern Siberia frozen and the meat not 
tainted ? It must have been frozen very quickly to 
preserve the flesh in this way. They have been found 
even fifty feet underground in perfect condition, with 
the meat untainted, and they must have been in this 
condition hundreds of years. I would be much obliged 
if you would answer me in St. Nicholas. 

Horace Wagner. 

Your question was submitted to Professor 
Frederic A. Lucas, curator in the United 
States National Museum, Washington, and an 
acknowledged authority regarding mammoths. 




The following is an extract from his reply : 

You are quite right about the preservation of the 
mammoths. They were frozen immediately after death, 
for they lived in a cold climate. We know that in 
Alaska the mammoths actually walked on the ice. It 
is quite probable that some of the mammoths perished 
in the snow, and this in time turned into glacier-like 
ice through accumulation and pressure, although I have 
never happened on any good explanation of the manner 
in which the great subterranean ice masses of Alaska 

ural to suppose that the name mammoth was given to 
the extinct elephant because of its extraordinary bulk. 
Exactly the reverse is true, however, for the word 
came to have its present meaning because the original 
possessor of the name was a huge animal. 

A very interesting article, "The Discovery of 
the Mammoth," was published in the December 
number (page 89) of St. Nicholas for 1882. 
Our young folks should take the bound volume 

and Siberia were formed. It has been suggested that for that year and read the entire article. For 

in an unusually mild season a main- ^^j^ji^klifcv^ those who Cannot 

moth might have got mired and been jMP % \ Wk \ I obtain that number 

frozen in later. That the flesh was J^H , .1 r 11 

* • * 1 t 1 » 1 i- ti • 'Mf?***.^* <SJ$k we print the rollow- 

untainteu I do not believe. I he in- 'mSlSiSwfa*' ' IT 

ternal warmth-as in a whale-would J| ■ 'WpW^^^P^t^St ™ g extraCtS relatin g 

probably taint some of the meat be- t ^m <%wS3& t&- to *- ne discovery of 

fore it could all freeze; although the legs — these were 
the parts best preserved — would keep quite fresh. 


this mammoth in a huge mound of ice in 
northern Siberia in the spring of 1799. 

Read also the chapter " The Mammoth " in 
Professor Lucas's very interesting book, " Ani- 
mals of the Past." It is especially interesting 
to note the following statement regarding the 
word " mammoth " : 

We are so accustomed to use the word to describe 
anything of remarkable size that it would be only nat- 

About thirty feet above him, half-way up the face of 
the mound, appeared the section of a great ice-layer, 
from which the water was flowing in numberless streams ; 
while protruding from it, and partly hanging over, was 
an animal of such huge proportions that the simple 
fisherman could hardly believe his eyes. Two gigantic 
horns or tusks were visible, and a great woolly body 
was faintly outlined in the blue, icy mass. In the fall 




he related the story to his comrades up the river, and 
in the ensuing spring, with a party of his fellow-fisher- 
men, he again visited the spot. A year had worked 
wonders. The great mass had thawed out sufficiently 
to show its nature, and on closer inspection proved to 
be a well-preserved specimen of one of those gigantic 
extinct hairy elephants that roamed over the northern 
parts of Europe, Asia, and America in the earlier ages of 
the world. The body was still too firmly attached and 
frozen to permit of removal. For four successive 
years the fishermen visited it, until finally, in March, 
1804, five years after its original discovery, it broke 
away from its icy bed and came thundering down upon 
the sands below. The discoverers first detached the 
tusks, that were nine feet six inches in length, and to- 
gether weighed three hundred and sixty pounds. The 
hide, covered with wool and hair, was more than twenty 
men could lift. Part of this, with the tusks, was taken 
to Jakutsk and sold for fifty rubles, while the rest of 
the animal was left where it fell, and cut up at various 
times by the Jakutskans, who fed their dogs with its flesh. 
A strange feast this, truly — meat that had been frozen 
solid in the ice-house of nature perhaps fifty thousand 
years, more or less ; but so well was it preserved that 
when the brain was afterward compared with that of 
a recently killed animal, no difference in the tissues 
could be detected. 

Later the mammoth was purchased by scien- 
tists and taken to the museum at St. Petersburg. 
It is this specimen that is pictured on the pre- 
vious page. Of the size of this mammoth it is 
stated : 

Its length is twenty-six feet, including the curve of 
the tusks ; it stands sixteen feet high, and when alive 
it probably weighed more than twice as much as the 
largest living elephant. And as some tusks have 
been found over fifteen feet in length, we may reason- 
ably conclude that Shumarhoff's mammoth is only an 
average specimen, and that many of its companions 
were considerably larger. 

"chinese eye-glasses." 

Baltimore, Md. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I inclose in a box two sprays 
of a plant called "Chinese eye-glasses," one of their 
"covers," and several seeds. One spray has several 
covers on the eye-glasses, and the other has not. 
The seed should be sown in May, June, or July, for 
if sown in September the frost will kill them, as 
they will not be strong enough to stand it. They 
bloom the second summer, and the flowers are a reddish 
purple. They must not be picked or the eye-glasses 
(which are the seed-pods) will not come. The eye- 
glasses have two covers, one on each side, as is 
shown on one of the sprays. These covers are a 
very pale yellowish brown when ripe. The seeds are 
between these and the eye-glasses. They will keep 


Photographed from the two sprays of the plant sent by the 
writer of this letter. 

for a long time if not handled much, for they are very 
frail. Yours truly, 

Teresa Cohen. 

This plant is commonly known as moonwort 
or honesty. The scientific name is Lunaria 
annua. As this name implies, it is an annual. 
The seeds may be sown in early spring. The 
plant is easily grown, and our young folks will 
find it interesting especially because of its 
unique form. 


^ Itfftjfe 


/^llJ^fTu 1 

The sun swings higher in the sky 
To light the pleasant path of May, 

And still with kindly, watchful eye, 
Finds happy children all the way. 

For the benefit of our later readers we find it a good 
plan now and then to review something of the object 
and scope of the St. Nicholas League. 

The League was begun with an announcement made 
in November, 1899. We stated then that it was to be 
an organization of our readers for the purpose of en- 
couraging and cultivating talent and ingenuity, and for 
promoting good-fellowship everywhere. Each month 


prizes were to be offered as an acknowledgment of 
superior excellence in drawing, literary composition, 
photography, and puzzle-work. 

We expected the League would be a success, but we 
hardly thought it would at once become a great educa- 
tional factor with a support so wide and so eminent as 

it immediately received. Wherever in any part of the 
earth there are English readers the St. Nicholas League 
has members ; and in every school and college where 
English is read and taught, instructors have watched its 
growth and in many cases made its work a part of 
their class study. Art teachers everywhere have en- 
couraged their pupils to compare the League drawings 
and to enter the competitions. One of the foremost 
illustrators in the world has written to say that he 
wishes he might have had a St. Nicholas League in the 
days of his early beginnings. Already some of those 
who began writing and drawing nearly four years ago 
have taken their places in the ranks of the world's 
workers, and among these 
and among others that will 
be added to their number 
as the years go by, there will 
be men and women whom 
the world will be proud to 
claim and will long remem- 

The membership of the 
St. Nicholas League is free. 
Any reader of St. Nicho- 
las, whether a subscriber 
or not, may obtain a League 
badge and an instruction 
leaflet and may enter the 
competition. We ask only 
that members give attention 
to the department and its 
aims, and strive earnestly 
to excel in whatever they 
may undertake. We ask, 
also, that they persevere, 
for it is only through ear- 
nest striving and persistent 
effort that anything worth 
having can be won. Dis- 
couragement has no place 
in any League undertaking, 
and some of those who have 
attained the highest places 
have failed oftenest in the 


In making awards, contributors' ages are considered. 
Verse. Gold badges, Elizabeth Q. Bolles (age 17), 
Berkeley St., Cambridge, Mass., and Mabel Eliza- 

beth Fletcher (age 16), 470 E. Center St., Decatur, 111. 




Silver badges, Norman Taylor (age 10), 7422 Penn 
Ave., Pittsburg, Pa., Dorothy Wallis (age 13), 300 
Park Ave., Orange, N. J., and Sydney P. Thompson 
(age 8), 156 Fifth Ave., Room 706, New York City. 

Prose. Gold badge, Gladys Bullough (age 14), 
Meggernie Castle, Glen Lyon, Perthshire, Scotland. 

Silver badges, Herbert Andrews (age 14), 174 Sel- 
kirk Ave., Winnipeg, Man., Canada, Edna Wise (age 
14), 239 West 70th St., Chicago, 111., and Herman 
White Smith (age 11), Redding, Conn. 

Drawing. Gold badges, Emily Grace Hanks (age 
16), 2044 Madison Ave., New York City, and Lucy 
Mackenzie (age 15), Ladyhill House, Elgin, Scotland. 

Silver badges, Richard M. Hunt (age 16), 1 Wood- 
side Rd., Winchester, Mass., and Katharine Thomp- 
son (age 9), Brookwood Farm, Greencastle P. O., 

Photography. Cash prize, Homer C. Miller (age 
17), 26 Clifton St., Springfield, Ohio. 

Gold badge, George Schobinger (age 17), Chailly, 
S. Lausanne, Switzerland. 

Silver badges, Lawrence V. Sheridan (age 15), 449 
S. Clay St., Frankfort, Ind., and Will Maynard (age 
13), 906 State St., Springfield, Mass. 

Wild-animal and Bird Photography. First prize, 
" Partridges," by Lucille Sledge Campbell (age 14), 
Knoxville, Tenn. Second prize, "Squirrel," by 
Philip S. Ordway (age 15), 20 Myrtle St., Winches- 
ter, Mass. No third prize. 

Puzzle-making. Gold badges, Margery Quigley (age 
16), 3966 Morgan St., St. Louis, Mo., and Olive S. 
Brush (age 15), 68 Gloucester St., Toronto, Ont., Can. 

Silver badges, Marie Blucher (age 12), Corpus Christi, 
Tex., A. Adelaide Hahn (age 9), 552 E. 87th St., 
N. Y. City. 

Puzzle-answers. Gold badges, Alice C. Martin 
(age 15), 240 West 74th St., New York City, and Des- 
mond Kessler Fraenkel (age 14), 906 Park Ave., 

Silver badges, Doris Hackbusch (age 14), 511 North 
Esplanade, Leavenworth, Kan., and Willamette Par- 
tridge (age 14 , 1629 Sheridan Drive, Chicago, 111. 



(Gold Badge.) 
I hear the veery singing, 

And the south wind softly sigh, 
As I gaze up from my window 

To the meadows of the sky. 

The star sheep there are grazing 

With the star lambs by their side, 
And the shepherd moon is guarding 

O'er the meadows large and wide. 

And through those spacious meadows 

A lane goes curving by, 
And it leadeth to the sheepfold 

Of the meadows in the sky. 


(Gold Badge.) 

Alex McKenzie was a lad of sixteen 
years, the youngest son of a Plighland 
chieftain who lived in a Highland glen. 
It was in the month of June, when Rory 
McKenzie (Alex's father) had a quarrel 
with a very powerful Highland clan 
named Campbell. Alex's father sent to 
the Campbells to ask about some land 
which by right belonged to the McKen- 
zies and the Campbells had claimed. 
When Campbell heard what the mes- 
sage was, he got in such a rage that he drew his claymore 
and slew one of the messengers. The others, mad 
with rage, rushed upon the Campbells and killed many 
of them. Such an uneven conflict could not last long. 
The McKenzies were all killed but on«, who managed 
to escape, and brought the news to his chief, who 
vowed vengeance for the loss of his men. Alex was 
very excited about the coming battle, as he was old 
enough to take part in it with his brothers. The clan 
at once prepared for battle, which did not take long in 
those days. Alex showed himself as good a soldier as 
any of the clan, several times saving his father's life. 
The Campbells, being more numerous, forced the Mc- 


Kenzies to fly, and hotly pursued them. The McKenzies, 
having no settled place to retreat to in case of defeat, 
scattered. Alex and his father were left alone. The 
chief could hardly drag himself along, as he was badly 
wounded. Alex tried to think of some place where he 
and his father could hide, when he suddenly remem- 
bered that some time before he had discovered a small 
cave cunningly hidden away on the steep mountain-side. 
He at once led his father to the spot, and almost dragged 
him through the small hole leading to the cave ; and here 
they remained until the Campbells had gone, living on 
the food that every soldier was obliged to carry. Alex 
left his father in the care of a friend, rode to Edinburgh, 

6 5 8 


obtained an audience of the king, and begged him to 
have the Campbells punished. This he did, and made 
the brave boy an officer in his army, where he did good 
service. He finally went back to the Highlands, and 
lived in great happiness. 


( Gold Badge. ) 

A DROOPING clover in a broken glass, 
An oak-leaf treasured up from long ago, 

A bare, baked ground without a blade of grass, 
And ragweeds in a sullen, jagged row. 

Behind it all the noisy gutter hums ; 

In front the heavy litter-boxes stand : 
Yet here the ragged children of the slums 

Come flocking in a joyous, happy band. 

Her clover turns to daisies 
fresh and gay ; 
The oak-leaf is a grove of 
noble trees ; 
The gutter oft becomes a 
tranquil bay 
Where white-sailed ships 
can tempt the gentle 



The battle of Southwest Harbor was fought in tr 
war of 181 2, but it is not known to many people, as it 
was not very important. Mount Desert Island, upoi. 
which Southwest Harbor is situated, lies off the coast 
of Maine. One day in the year 18 12 an English sloop 
of war appeared in the western way and anchored in- 
side of Cranberry Island. It was known that stores 
were concealed at Southwest Harbor, and the British 
determined to get them. There were no regular sol- 
diers at Southwest, but all the fishermen and farmers 
of the country round about gathered together and built 
a hastily improvised breastwork, behind which they 
placed some old field-pieces. The first day after h<"r 
arrival the sloop lay quietly at anchor, but in the even- 
ing she sent a boat ashore to reconnoiter. The boat 
did not find out very much. 

* ?'-- - t- V ' 

V.'' «*■ 'i.'lX-f'ri 

The clover and the oak-leaf 
and the weeds, 
Although dear Mother 
Nature's very crumbs, 
God wills that they should 
be as tiny seeds 
In the meadow of the chil- 
dren of the slums. 


(A True Story.) 

(AGE 14). 

(Silver Badge.) 

One hot summer day we 
were just let out of school, 

and were getting the pony into the gig to go home, when 
away to the north we could see great volumes of smoke 
arising. We got the pony into the gig and hurried 
toward home. The pony was so frightened that it started 
to run away. It flew around the corner of a fence, 
almost upsetting the gig. We arrived home in a record 
time. We got the horse into the barn and then went 
out. The men had got the horses out and were plow- 
ing a fire-guard along the northern part of the boundary 
of the farm, which was menaced by the fire. 

When several furrows had been plowed the fire was 
up to the brake. The men got bags, wet them, and stood 
ready to meet the oncoming fire. Whenever a bit of 
fire crossed the guard it was put out. 

But the wind was getting up, and in a little while the fire 
had crossed the guard. The men worked hard and long ; 
but the fire seemed to be gaining. We brought another 
barrel of water, and with fresh energy they again fought 
with the fire. This time they slowly conquered it. In 
about a quarter of an hour the fire was out. They had 
been fighting for two hours. They were quite tired 
out. The fire started from a small fire in a stubble. 


The next day the battle commenced in earnest. The 
sloop stood in and the firing began. I cannot tell of 
all the brave deeds that were done that day, but one of 
them I will mention. 

A boy who was helping the men fell from the breast- 
works into the water. 

At once three men jumped into a dory and, in the 
face of a fierce fire, rescued him. 

The fight continued fiercely till evening, when the 
Britisher drew off, crippled and defeated, and the battle 
of Southwest Harbor between a sloop of war and some 
fishermen had been fought and won. 



(Silver Badge.) 

'T was old Mr. Beetle 

And old Mr. Bee 
Sat talking " a leetle " 

Beneath an old tree. 




Pping out of the lane, 
I heard Bumble sigh : 
"^ wish it would rain, 
; Or the flowers will die." 

Oh, no," said the other; 
"That never would do ; 
Too much rain 's a bother 
For me, if not you." 

'I like rain and sun," 

Said the Bee, with a wink ; 
." One gets lots of fun 

From both, ' don't you 
think ? " 

Mr. Beetle just pouted, 

And left Mr. Bee ; 
No good-bys were shouted 

Beneath the old tree. 

So, friends, when together, 

'T is wiser, you see, 
Not to talk of the weather — 

Unless you agree! 



(AGE II). 

{Silver Badge.) 

It was a fine day about the middle of June, and I 
thought I would take a walk in the orchard to see a 
robin's nest I had found a few days before. I had not 
gone very far when I saw a robin fly out of an apple- 
tree near by. I looked up into the tree for quite a few 
minutes, and was just going away when I saw the 
mother returning; but I think she did not see me, for 
she went right to the nest. Then I saw it in a crotch 
about half-way up the tree. It was not a very hard tree 
to climb, so I thought I would climb up and see what 
was in it. 

I had climbed about half-way to the nest when I 
heard such a noise in the orchard I jumped down from 
the tree and ran to see what was the matter. 

Before I could get there I heard the chatter of a red 
squirrel and the snap, snap of a robin's beak. I soon 
saw what was the matter. The squirrel was eating a 
robin's egg as I came in sight, while the mother was 
fluttering about, snapping her beak and trying to strike 
him with her wings. The squirrel, after finishing the 


egg, started to run to a hickory-tree near by, but before 
he had passed the first tree she was at him again. To avoid 
her blows he would dart under the limb, while all the 
while he was getting farther and farther away. At that 
instant the father came flying by, and stopped when he 
saw the fight. 

Not waiting to see what the matter was, he flew right 
at the squirrel, and before the squirrel knew what was 
to be done, the robin had struck him and he was fall- 
ing straight to the ground. When he struck he fell on 
the stone fence, and was just able to get into a hole in 
the fence. I don't think he ever troubled a robin's 
nest after that. 


Every reader of St. Nicholas should become 
a member of the St. Nicholas League. A League 
badge and leaflet will be mailed free. 



{Silver Badge.) 

Over the meadow at evening, 
Over the meadow at morn, 

I see the corn-fields waving 
With their golden ears of corn. 

Over the meadows at morning, 

Into the forest deep, 
I hear the wood birds singing, 

And I see the owls asleep. 

Over the meadow at evening, 
And through the rustling corn, 

I am going over the meadow 
To the place where I was born. 






(Silver Badge.) 
Up in the sky a lark is flying, 
Down in the grass a child is lying; 
The grasses bend and the breezes 

And the little child's breath comes soft 

and slow. 

The song of the lark is sweet and 

And it says to the child, "Rest well, 

my dear." 
The lark flew upward into the sky, 
But the little child on earth must lie. 


( Silver Badge. ) 

There was great excitement, one fine 
summer day, on the planet of Mars. 
The King's palace was in an uproar. 
And well it might be, for the Lord 
High Astronomer had just rushed head- 
long into the throne-room, crying as 
he came: "Oh, your Majesty! twelve 
great air-ships have just been seen putting out from 
Jupiter! Battle-ships, your Majesty, battle-ships!" 

What a flurry there was, to be sure! Even the King, 
who was very, very cross at being wakened in the middle 
of his morning nap, finally put on his crown and, 
grumbling all the while, went out to see that the Imperial 

I ;.;'.--.," 


B 1 '] 


mm:'- M \ 

L\ p/ jH 




Troopers, who were rushing about the courtyard in a 
very frightened and bewildered state, got into proper 
order. The Queen became so very excited that she lost 
her gold embroidery-scissors, and could n't find them 
again. This made her very cross, and as she was 
already badly frightened, her maids were very glad 
when she finally fled to her room, and, getting under 
her bed, waited tremblingly for the first shot to be 
fired. The Lord High Astronomer and several other 
dignitaries were hanging out of the highest tower in 
breathless interest, for the air-ships were headed di- 
rectly for Mars, and were moving at the rate of one 
thousand miles a minute. Every one was looking very 
pale and scared, and watched every movement of the 
ships with fear and trembling. 

Nearer and nearer came the great air-ships, and every- 
one held his breath and waited until — 

"Eureka!" shouted the Lord High Astronomer. 
" They are going by. They 're not stopping here 
at all!" 

At this everybody took a long breath. The King, 
still grumbling and growling, went back to finish his 
interrupted nap. The Queen, having first peeped 
out of the door to see that all was safe, came down 
from her room, found her embroidery-scissors, and 
went on with her embroidery. The Imperial Troopers 
tried to look disappointed, but they positively could n't 
help looking relieved instead. Everybody went back to 
his or her work, and the Lord High Astronomer slowly 
put up his telescope preparatory to looking at the Earth. 



Summer mists were all around, 
Dewdrops sparkled on the ground ; 
Through the grass the south wind blew, 
Where the nodding wild flowers grew. 
Rippling, laughing, flowed the brook, 
Waking birds their nests forsook, 
Sunbeams bright lay over all, 
When we reached the meadow wall. 







Violets perfumed the air, 
Bumblebees droned ev'ry- 

where ; 
Made for dreaming seemed 

that day, 
And in silence passed away. 
Apple-blossoms drifted down 
On our heads, a dainty crown ; 
In the meadow, ev'rywhere, 
Peace and gladness filled the 

Soon the sunset lit the sky ; 
Down the lane the cows went 

Western breezes whispered 

In the shadows wav'ring so. 

On the scene the moonlight lay 

When we sought our homeward way. 

Though the day is now long past, 

Always will the mem'ry last. 



One day little Robert and his sister Alice were 
going down the lawn to feed the poultry. 
" Alice," said Robert, " you feed the ducks this 
morning, and I '11 feed the chickens." So Alice 
went to feed the ducks and Robert fed the other 
fowl. When Alice was nearly through feeding 
the ducks she heard Robert shouting for her to 
come over where he was. She ran over to him 
as fast as she could, and when she got there she 
saw that he was watching two roosters fighting 
over a piece of corn. They seemed in real ear- 
nest, for they were using their spurs and beaks 
vigorously. One rooster had the piece of corn 
in his beak and the other one was trying to get 


it out. At last both of them rolled 
over, 6ne on top of the other. This 
made Robert and Alice laugh a great 
deal, for they had never seen a fight 
like that before in their lives. The 
two roosters grew more and more 
fierce as the time passed, and by and 
by one of them dropped the piece of 
corn ; they paid no attention to this, 
though, but kept on fighting. The 
piece of corn did not stay on the 
ground very long, though, for an- 
other fowl came along and gobbled 
it up ; so when the roosters stopped 
fighting they could not find it. The 
roosters did more harm than you 
would think, for, in her hurry to 
get to Robert, Alice had left open 
the door to the place where the 
ducks were kept, and now the ducks 
were all over the yard. Robert and 
Alice had a very hard time catching 
them, too. 


The clover 's in the meadow, 

The violet 's in the dell, 
But what is this spring fra- 
This aromatic smell ? 

I 've thought of all the flowers 
That in the springtime live, 

But none of those I 've 
thought of 
Could such a perfume give. 

The meadow 's green with 


The bluet dots the ground, 

The golden cowslip 's glowing 

From all the swamps 


But whence this spicy odor? 

I know not where to look! 
But wait — look here: the 
odor 's from 

The spearmint by the brook. 









It was February, in the year 1830, when my grand- 
father, who was a pioneer of Michigan and lived in the 
northern part of that State, started with a neighbor 
whose name was Harlow for the village of El- 
mira, which was four miles distant. 

They lingered in town for some time after 
buying some groceries and an ax, and then started 
their walk, about twilight, through the deep snow 
which was between them and home. 

They had gone about two miles when they 
heard the howling of wolves behind them. This 
was sufficient warning for them to fly for shelter, 
which was no nearer than home. But when they 
had made the two miles one half-mile shorter, 
they saw that it was useless to run, and prepared 
for a struggle, my grandfather armed with his ax 
and Harlow with a hickory club. 

The wolves, made desperate with hunger, for 
it was almost impossible for them to find food 
then, made an immediate attack. 

The beast that led the pack made a spring on 
Harlow, grabbed him by the leg, and would have 
torn him had not my grandfather leveled the 
beast to the ground. 

Then the rest of the pack tore their fallen com- 
rade into pieces and devoured him. This gave 
the men a chance to escape ; but they had not 
gone, far before they were overtaken. 

The wolves, having tasted blood, were more 
ravenous than ever, and all jumped on their prey 
at once. This time they pulled Harlow to the 
ground, and he would have been torn into pieces, but 
my grandfather's trusty ax laid two of the wretches dead 
on the ground, and then he pulled his companion up. 
Awed by the way in which their comrades fell, the wolves 
retreated ; but in a moment they renewed the attack with 
new vigor, while the men with nearly every blow laid 
some beast dead at their feet. 

Just as they were beginning to lose their strength, 
and also their courage, their enemies began to steal 
away, each one dragging one of the slain wolves. 

Neither of the men was hurt severely, and they 
reached home in safety. 

They never found out how many wolves they 
had slain, for they all had been carried off and 



Buttercups and daisies nodding to and fro, 
Swaying so softly when balmy breezes blow. 
Buttercups and daisies standing in a row, 
Pray, won't ye tell what is it ye whisper low? 

Brown thrush and swallow singing all the day, 
Winging so wantonly across the meadow way, 
Brown thrush and swallow warbling in May, 
What are ye singing sweet — won't ye tell me, 

Babbling silver brooklet bounding o'er the grass, 
Tinkling so musically as onward you pass, 
Babbling silver brooklet stealing through the 

Won't ye tell your secret to a little lass? 

Years have passed and now I know 
The reason why the flowers grow, 
The joy that makes the young birds sing, 
And starts the brook's sweet murmuring : 
'T is merry May, who heralds gay the fullness 
of the spring. 




It was a sultry afternoon. Dark clouds were chasing 
the sun to an early rest. A storm was pending, but 
the threatening aspect of the heavens did not disturb the 
waiting throngs gathered on the sand beach of Waikiki, 
or render them impatient — no, not even when frequent 
showers of pelting rain rushed down from the blue hills 
of Manoa and deluged them. The eyes of all were di- 
rected seaward, where, just beyond the white line of 
breakers, the cable-ship " Silvertown " rocked. 




It was approaching nearer and nearer, the slim black 
line. Canoes filled with excited observers accompa- 
nied it on its way ; the crowds on the shore shouted its 
welcome. The sea, golden in the light of the setting 
sun, laughed at the unwonted excitement, and the waves 
aided their new friend, the cable, on its progress shore- 
ward. And steadily the snake-like object drew nearer 
to the beach. 

At length the waiting crowds burst into cheers ; 
the band began to play; and willing hands pulled 
the cable up the shore! The shouts echoed over the 
blue ocean to the cable-ship and beyond. The cable 
had come! 

" We welcome thee, Pacific Cable, to Hawaii Nei!" 



Across some of his partly cleared land old Grandsire 
Morten was passing one evening. He had noticed how 
strangely his dogs were acting, when suddenly a pan- 
ther sprang from the crackling branches of a tree. In 
some miraculous manner the old man escaped its 
clutches. The panther, after a battle with the dogs, 
escaped into the woods. 

Upon reaching his home, Mr. Morten told his 
daughter and grandchil- 
dren of his narrow es- 

Several days later 
Mr. Morten's daughter 
was called to a sick 
neighbor's home. Be- 
fore leaving, she told 
her children, who were 
all under eleven years, 
not to leave the yard. 

The children played 
with their corn-cob 
dolls until they were 
tired, and then sat 
down under the trees 
to discuss their grand- 
father's adventure. 

They had not con- 


AGE 14. 

" Listen! It 's com- 
ing nearer," exclaimed 

'" It 's that panther," 
gasped Silas; "let 's 

This suggestion was 
seconded by a swift mo- 
tion toward the house ; 
and no sooner had they 
crossed its friendly 
threshold then they be- 
gan a systematic barri- 
cading ; then it was 
deemed safer to crawl 
under the curtained bed. 

Four children under 
a bed on a warm Octo- 

versed long when Silas changed the subject by abruptly 
saying: " Lucretia, did n't you hear something ? " 




SxSI r 


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? *<1 

S^* J 

l^fij " l v 






. •* 


--_ "" 










ber afternoon was anything but pleasant ; but this was one 
of the rare occasions when pleasure was not consulted. 

At first only the noises made by the inmates of the 
barn-yard reached the strained ears of the listeners. 

The youngest child began to cry, for she feared the 
panther might eat her pets. Her thoughts, however, 
were not occupied long in that direction, for just then 
a noise at the door made every one tremble with terror. 
Lucretia clapped her hands over her ears to drown the 
increasing noise. 

"Lucretia," suddenly cried Silas, " that sounds like 
mother calling." 

" So it does. You stay here until I go and see," said 
the little heroine, crawling from under the bed. 

Fancy the mother's surprise when she entered the 
disorderly room and beheld her three youngest children 
crawling from the bed, and all because, as it was after- 
ward discovered, Mrs. Squirrel skipped across the brown 
carpet of leaves to her neighbor's tree! 


During the reign of George II. a very important 
battle took place, which is decidedly worth telling. 





The English were very anxious to take Quebec, 
which was at that time held by the French, whom the 
English hated. 

Wolfe was the most famous Englishman at that time, 
and the nation wanted him to undertake to capture 
Quebec, it being a point of great 

When Wolfe went to Canada 
to see how Quebec was situated, 
he found that it would be no easy 
task to take the city. He wrote 
home in despair, stating that the 
French leader Montcalm was a 
brave, kind, and skilful man, who 
would n't fight a battle, but who 
took care to place his men where 
Wolfe could not pass by or at- 
tack them. 

At last Wolfe made one des- 
perate attempt. 

Placing his men in boats, they 
rowed quietly up the dark river. 
As they rowed Wolfe repeated to 
his men some beautiful verses 
from a poem which had been 
written by Gray a few years be- 
fore. One of the verses ended 
with the words, " The paths of 
glory lead but to the grave." 
After Wolfe had said those lines 
he told his men that he would 
rather have been the author of 
that poem than to take Quebec. 

When Wolfe and his men 
climbed the steep cliffs, which 
are so narrow that in some places 
two men cannot stand together, they reached 
" Plains of Abraham," where the French were. 

When the French saw the English coming they ran 
down into the city and told Montcalm. 

Montcalm soon came out of the city and on to the 
Plains of Abraham with his army. 

During the battle both of these brave warriors fell 
and died. 

As Wolfe lay dying he heard one man say, "See! 
they run! " Wolfe roused himself to ask : 

" Who run? " 

When he heard that it was the enemy, he said : 

" God be praised! I die in peace." These were his 
last words. 

When Montcalm was dying he said : 

" I thank God that I have not seen the surrender of 

A monument has been erected for these two brave 
commanders, each fighting for his own country. 





Oh, the Meadows of Youth are passing fair, 
And fresh and sweet is the springlike air, 

With violets and daffydowndillies ; 
And the cowslips shine like little suns there, 
And the fairies peep forth everywhere 

From the cups of the stately lilies. 

Oh, Meadows of Youth, you are far away; 
The glamor of sunrise has faded to-day. 

We have strayed from the pathways olden, 
And even the fairies are dead, they say, 
And the fairy music is hushed for aye, 

And gone are the Ages Golden. 

But sometimes a little wandering breeze, 
Sweet with spring and the breath of trees, 

Into our hearts comes straying, 
And we know that somewhere, beyond the seas, 

Lie the Meadows of Youth, and 
that over these 
The Wind of Memory 's play- 


TON (AGE 12). 

Oh, buttercups and daisies 
And modest clover dear, 
What should we do without 
When summer-time is near ? 
For you make the meadows 
Than any garden bowers, 
And you smell of grass and hay- 
You simple meadow flowers. 

Oh, busy twittering sparrows 

That flit along the hedge, 
Chirping of eggs and nesting 

And babies soon to fledge — 
Oh, nation of small brownies, 

You 're prettier any day 
Than parrots brightly plumaged 

With yellow, red, and gray. 



" MOTHER wants you to stay home this afternoon 
with Alfred, deary." 

Ethel looked up from her book with a scowl on her 
pretty forehead. 

AGE 13. 





" Why, I was going over to Jo's this afternoon and 
stay to supper, don't you remember?" Ethel asked. 

" No, dear, I had forgotten ; but won't you stay home 
just this time? I don't command you to, but won't 
you ? " pleaded the mother. 

" I just think that it 's mean of you to ask me, when 
you know I am going out," Ethel answered. 

"Very well, then; I will stay at home," mother 

Ethel looked at her book, but somehow or other the 
story had lost its interest. 

Suddenly she started and glanced around the room. 

There was no one in the room except herself, but 
certainly she had heard a little voice. 

She sat still and listened. There were two voices, 
and they sounded as though they were quarreling. 

"Go to Josephine's if you want to; your mother 
did n't say you could n't," said one voice. 

" Yes, I know ; but mother has so little pleasure that 
you ought not to be so 
selfish as to keep her 
home," said the other 

" Well, I don't care," 
said voice number one ; 
" I 'm going." And so 
they had it back and 


Mother was sitting in 
the nursery with baby 
Alfred on her lap, when 
the door opened and 
Ethel came in. When 
she saw her mother she 
gave a little cry and, 
running to her, buried 
her head in her lap. 

" Oh, mother," she 
cried, " give me Alfred 
and go out. I want you 
to go." 

" But if I go you can- 
not go to Jo's." 

" I don't want to go. " 

" But, deary, you did 
a little while ago." 

" I know it ; but after 
you went out I heard 
two little voices quarreling, and they made me so 
ashamed! I think they must have been fairies." 

As mother kissed Ethel she did not tell her that it 
was her conscience quarreling with itself. 



" I 've been out in the meadow," said Charlie, 
" I 've been out having fun with the boys ; 
I 'm glad I 'm not like Billy Courtney, 
Who has to stay in with his toys. 

" I am sorry for poor Billy Courtney, 

Who can't run and play out and swim, 
So I '11 gather some pebbles and flowers 
And carry the meadow to him!" 


Emma L. Rapelye (age 13), 202 Union St., Flushing, L. I., 
wishes to exchange stamps. She has 600 foreign and domestic 

Vol. XXX.— 84. 

Yseulte Parnell (age 16), 97 Oakley St., London, S. W., Eng- 
land, desires to correspond with an American girl of her own age. 

Bessie Brown and Florence Brown, Honesdale, Pa., would like to 
correspond with a girl about fifteen years of age. 

Louis Edgar and Kate Swift, Honesdale, Pa., desire a correspon- 
dent about fifteen years of age. 

Laura A. Stevens, of Bonneau, S. C, desires to exchange some 
Mont Saint Michel postal cards for Dutch ones. 

Will Nina P. Skouses of Athens, Greece, please send her street 
address for publication ? It is desired by many readers. 

Ellen Skinner, of Escambia, Fla. , desires to exchange Pensacola, 
Mobile, and New Orleans cards. Foreign countries preferred. 

Ariana M. Belt (age 15), 1031 Cathedral St., Baltimore, Md., 
would like two or three girl correspondents of about her own 

Ethel Kawin (age 13), 4426 Berkeley Ave., Chicago, 111., would 
like to correspond with a girl of about her own age who lives either 
in southern Europe or in Japan. 

Elsie F. Weil (age 13), 4595 Oakenwald Ave., Chicago, 111., 
would like to have a correspondent who lives either in Greece, Italy, 
or Spain. 

Herbert Schroeder (age 15), 1023 Prouty Ave., Toledo, O., would 
like a correspondent in either Turkey, China, or Japan. 

A. Gertrude Gordon, 1600 16th street, N. W., Washington, D. C., 
would like to exchange Washington postal cards for those of any 

city, foreign preferred. 

Geoffrey W. Harris (age 
x 3)> 37 Marlborough Ave., 
Providence, R. I., would like 
to exchange stamps with 
some boy of his own age, 
and would also like to com- 
pare notes on curios and pho- 

Cordner H. Smith, Wash- 
ington, Ga., would like to 
exchange stamps and postal 
cards with any one in foreign 

W. McLean Snyder (age 
n), of Snohomish, Wash., 
would like to correspond 
with some one in Florida 
about his own age. 

Bertha D. Poole, of Cro- 
quet, Minn., would like to 
correspond with some girl, 
about fourteen years old, 
living in the East. 

John P. Phillips, St. Da- 
vids, Pa., would like to ex- 
change Philadelphia postal 
cards for those of any other 
city, foreign or domestic. 

E. Kathleen Carrington, 
Riverhead, L. I., desires to 
correspond with a few 
League members. 

Alleine Langford, 7 East 
3d St., Jamestown, N. Y., 
desires one or two girl cor- 
respondents of about four- 
teen years of age. 

If any League members 
or readers have the early volumes of St. Nicholas, ranging any- 
where from Vol. I. to XV., in good condition, and would like to dis- 
pose of them, either for cash or in exchange for later volumes, they 
may write to the editor of the League. 


Glebelands, Bowdon, Cheshire, England. 

Dear St. Nicholas : Thank you ever so much for the badge, 
which arrived when I was away at Lowestoft, where I spent part of 
my Christmas holidays. During my visit there was a storm, and 
a fishing-boat was blown on to the beach. The men were all saved. 

Lowestoft is a very cold and stormy place situated on the most 
easterly point of England. A promenade was built a few years ago, 
but the rough seas have demolished it, and are now taking part of the 
cliffs and some of the houses away. So you see little England is 
growing less. 

Do you ever, in the summer, have competitions for sketching from 
nature ? I am very fond of it, and hope to do a great deal next 

With thanks, your interested reader, Ella Pattinson. 

Peoria, III. 
Dear St. Nicholas League: The delightful news about my 
picture came on my birthday. I don't think I was ever so happy in 
my life. I am ashamed to think how longit has taken me toacknow- 
ledge the beautiful pin you sent. I wear it to the Bradly Poly- 
technic, and all the girls envy me the prominence the winning of this 

AGE 16. 




prize has brought me to, as you will see by the copy of the Peoria paper I send 
you, which gave me the first news of the most delightful event of my life. I look 
forward with hope that I may, by hard work, some time enjoy the pleasure of 
being included among the regular contributors to the St. Nicholas 

Gratefully, Alice Josephine Goss. 

Other interesting letters have been received from Helen Ball, Kathleen E. Har- 
rison, Margaret G. Church, Marjorie Porter, Paul R. Fernald, Mary L. Evans, 
Simon Cohen, Harold Hill, Lucile Ramon Byrne, Thomas G. Hanson, Jr., Es- 
ther Silsby, Helen Hopkins, Stella Weinstein, Wilmot S. Close, Nellie Allender, 
Ruth Brown, Dorothy Hardy Richardson, George T. Colman, John P. Phillips, 
Owen Dodsen, Katie C. Lusk, and Henry Hitchcock. 


Live 10 LEAftN. 



No. 1. A list of those whose work would have been published had space permitted. 
No. 2. A list of those whose work entitles them to encouragement. 

Sarah Jewett Robbins 

Alexander T. Ormond 

Martha Wascher 

Lucile Delight Woodling 

Leah Louise Stock 

Laura Mead 

Irvin C. Poley 

Helen A. Lee, Jr. 

J. Hartwell Bennett 

Anne Seymour Jones 

Margaret Stone 

Dorothy Cummin 

Dorothy Doyle 
Catharine M. 

Oswald Reich 
Sophie Marks 
Margeret A. Fisk 
Ruth Bartlett 
Bennie Hasselman 
Marion Cheney 
Beulah French 
Ethel P. Hartley 
Dorothy Dunning 
Gerald Taylor 


Alleine Langford 
Donald Ferguson 
Mabel C. Stark 
Linda G. McAllister 
Maud Dudley Shackelford 
Margaret Minaker 
Emily W. Browne 
Florence Ewing Wilkinson 
Helen M. Almy 
Isadore Douglas 
Madge Falcon 
Peirce E. Johnson 
Doris Webb 
Herbert S. Walsh 
Helena Marco 
Robert E Dundon 
Doris Francklyn 
Rose C Goode 
Saidee E. Kennedy 
Eleanor S. Whipple 
Harold R. Norris 
Dorothea M. Dexter 
Mary C. Tucker 
Beulah H. Ridgeway 
Eleanore Myers 
A. Elizabeth Goldberg 
Mildred Stanley Fleck 

Edwina L. Pope 
Hilda van Emster 
Leigh Sowers 
Pauline Grossenbacher 
Harry A. Packard 
Henry L. Walsh 
Marie Margaret Kirkwood 
Florence Hutchins Block 
Katherine Kurz 
Louis Hall 

H. Wellington Gustin 
Susie Franks Iden 
Katherine Bastedo 
Elsie Kimball Wells 
Edith McLaughlin 
Lawrence Grey Evans 
Agnes Urainsfield 
Katharine and Monica 

Ruth Brierley 
Mary K. Turner 
Marie J. Hapgood 
Dorothy Nicoll 

Millicent Pond 
Helen B. Barclay 
Arvine Kelly 
Isabell McLaughlin 
Julia Ford Fiebeger 
Camilla M. Haley 
Dorothy Allen 
Mary Blossom BIoss 
Elizabeth Cocke 
Alan D. Campbell 
Harriet Van Zile 
Eleanor P. Wheeler 
Walter H. Wild 
Arthur K. Hulme 
Rowena H. Morse 
Emelyn Ten Eyck 
Margaret M. Sherwood 
Elizabeth T. Hart 
Robert Albin 
Lois Gilbert Sutherland 
Dorothy Lenroot 
Elise R. Russell 
May Wenzel 
Katharine R. Welles 
Philip Francis Leslie 
Mary Klauder 
Phyllis Ridgely 
Blanche Rible 
Verna Mae Tyler 
Winifred Hemming 


Willia Nelson 
Herrick H. Harwood 
Joe McCune 
Virginia Clark 
Edith Minaker 
Bernhard R. Naumburg 
Alfaretta Bell 
John Griffith Maguire 
Minnie Jongewaard 
Caroline M. Morton 
R. E. Annin, Jr. 
J. Donald Kenderdine 
Ferdinand Schenck, Jr. 
Alice M. Perkins 
Mary R Hull 
Eleanor Wright 
Louise Whitefield Bray 
Philip D. Hulme 
Elizabeth Babcock 
Helen Jelliffe 
Nannie C. Barr 
F. F. Van de Water, Jr. 

Harold Osborne 
Everett Putney Combes 
Dorothy R. Hayward 
Bertha Moore 
Avis Edgerton 
Edward Anschutz 
Frances Renee Despard 

Pauline Coppee Duncan 
Avis In-nlls 
Annie Patton 
Virginia McKenney 
Rita Wanninger 
Eleanor M. Barker 
Jessie E Wilcox 
Amy L. Post 
Alan Foley 
Alberta Bastedo 
Ariana McE. Belt 
Ethel Berrian 
Louis F. May 
Lucy H. Chapman 
Edgar Daniels 
Stella Chamberlain 
Annie Wagner 
E. Kathleen Carrington 
Bessie Stella Jones' 
Fred Hill 

Robert Powell Cotter 
Margaret Wynn Yancey 
E. Marguerite Luce 
Mildred Newman 
Mary C. Demarest 
Arnold W. Lahee 
Charlotte A. Seeley 
Cula Latzke 
Emily C. McCormick 
Nelson Hill 
Frances Cecilia Reed 
Eva L. Pitts 
Marguerite Massie 
Elsie J. Stark 
Ralph Balcom 
Roy Sampson 
Margaret Robertson 
Elizabeth Parrish Jackson 
Aileen S. Gorgas 
Mary Yeula Wescott 
Dolores de Arozarena 
Ray Randall 
Helen Coppee Duncan 
Everett M. Gillis 
Caroline Rogers 


^~= May Lewis Close 

Sidney Edward 

Jack Bellinger 
Joseph W.McGurk 
Gladys G. Young 

Charles A. McGuire, Jr. 

KatharineBeaumont Allison 

Melville Coleman Levey 

Frederick Charles Herrick 

Minica Samuels 

Yirancis Losere 

Marguerite Davis 

Laura Gardin 

Laura Wyatt 

Elaine Seyman 

James Dike 

Sylvia C. Thoesen 

Willie MacLeod 

Helen O. Chandler 

Grace G. Dudley 

Rose Stella Johnson 
John Mitchell 
Elizabeth R. Scott 
Verna E. Clark 
Aimee Vervalen 
Joseph Mazzano 
Mabel C. White 
Dorothea Clapp 
Edith G. Daggett 
Virginia Lyman 
Rodger Lloyd 
Cordner H. Smith 
Edwin C. Hamilton 
Walter W. Hood 
Eleanor Hinton 
Sumner F. Larchar 
Margaret McKeon 
Clarissa Rose 
Jerome J. Lilly 
Elsie E. Seward 
Jacob Riegel, Jr. 
Tom Benton 
Clyde Campbell 
Esterdell Lewis 
Ruth M. Waldo 
Theodore Tafel, Jr. 
Helen Clark Crane 
Elinor Hosie 
Laura Snodgrass 
Margaret Sloan 
Gertrude Emerson 
Bessie Stockton 
John Sinclair 
Warren Ridgway Smith 
Alice F. Einstein 
Margaret A. Dobson 
Louise F. Gleason 
William Hazlett Upson 
Mary St. Clair Breckono 
Carleton Daniel 
John Walter Dunn 
John H. Parker 

Esther Howell 
Milton See, Jr. 
Mildred Gautier Rice 
Henry Wickenden 
Dorothy Ochtman 
Greta Wetherill Keman 
Esther N. Brown 
Jarvis Taft 
Sara Homans 
Gilbert P. Pond 
Margaret Richardson 
Blake H. Cooley 
Harold Pan- 
Margaret Gordon Church 
Wilhelmina Moloney 
Willie Stockton 
Marion Myers 

Florence R. T. Smith 
Winifred Booker 
Florence L. Kenway 
Paul H. Prausnitz 
Grace Morgan Jarvis 
Michael Heidelberger 
Charles J. Heidelberger 
E. M. Hauthaway 
Harold A. Kelly 
John L. Hopper 

Norman Read 
Wallace H. Dodge 
Hilda C. Foster 
Vita Sackville West 
Pauline Swyny 
Dorothy Stabler 
J. Dunham Townsend 
J. E. Fisher, Jr. 
Margaret Delk 
Joseph S. Webb 
Sidney D. Gamble 
Josephine W. Pitman 
May Richardson 
Warren D. Grand 
Frank Brewer 
Elizabeth Williams 
Julian Theodore Hammond 
John D. Matz 
W. F. Harold Braun 
Elisabeth Spies 
Dorothy Carson 
Margaret Taylor 
Thad R. Goldsberry 
T. Sam Parsons 
Winifred F. Jones 
Emily Storer 
Earl E. Colvin 
Francis Earle 
Elizabeth Bishop Ballard 
Howard L. Cross 
Jane Barker Wheeler 
Carl Dusenbury Matz 
Francis Benedict 

Roscoe Adams 
Dorothy Fay 
Walter J. Schloss 
Elsie W. Dignan 
Wilmot S. Close 
Margaret Abbott 
Carolus R. Webb 
Edith Winslow 
Donna J. Todd 
Eaton Edwards 
G. Garland Whitehead 
William Ellis Keysor 

Florence Hoyte 
Miriam L. Ware 
Alice D. Karr 
Marjorie Stewart 
W. N. Coupland 
Annie Eales 
Pearl E. Kellogg 
Rufus Willard Putnam 
Frederick D. Anderson 
Dorothy Hills 
Helen Andersen 
William S. Weiss 
Dollie Cunningham 
Philip Stark 





It seems hardly necessary to call attention to the rule which re- 
quires that the contributor's address, age, etc., should be on the 
contribution itself, and not on a separate sheet ; yet two prizes were 
lost this month because this rule was not observed and the slips 
upon which the addresses were written in some way became sepa- 
rated from the contributions. It is impossible for the editors to keep 
them together where the number received is so large as at present. 


A number of new chapters are reported for this month, and many 
have written in to tell of prosperity and increased membership. Our 
lack of room prevents our using many of the items. The following 
letter, however, is of general interest, as it will suggest entertain- 
ments for other chapters. We hope that the Sunshine Chapter will 
take part in the next entertainment competition. 

St. John's Rectory, Troy, N. Y. 

Dear St. Nicholas: The Sunshine Chapter, No. 40c, would 
like to let you know about a little masquerade party we had. There 
are about fourteen girls in our society, and each one of us brought a 
guest. The party was from three to six. We danced for about an 
hour, and then gifts were distributed. At five o'clock ice-cream and 
cake were served, and soon after we left for our homes, after having a 
very delightful afternoon. 

We would also like to tell you about a bnzaar we held last spring 
for the benefit of the Fresh Air Fund. We made $208. 

Most of our members have lost their badges during the summer. 
Could we have about ten more ? 

Yours sincerely, Ethel R. Freeman. 

Chapters 342, 343, 505, 540, 615 and others report increase of mem- 
bership. It would be an excellent plan to form chapters, and to 
consolidate those already formed now, before the close of school, as 
much interesting chapter work, especially in the nature-study field, 
may be begun through May and June, and continued during vaca- 
tion. Please bear in mind that new chapters may have their badges 
sent in one envelope, postage free. 


No. 620. "Jolly Dozen." Katherine Collins, President; St. 
Clair Russell, Secretary; twelve members. Address, Olive St., 
Saranac Lake, N. Y. 

No. 621. "Violet." Greta Gyer, President; Bertha Feather, 
Secretary; four members. Address, Richfield Spa, N. Y. 

No. 622. Ruth Manchester, President; Gladys Manchester, 
Secretary; five members. Address, 171 Spencer St., Winsted, 

No. 623. Edith Brown, President; M. Brown, Secretary; five 
members. Address, 347 Flower Ave. , Hazelwood, Pa. 

No. 624. Frank Campbell, President ; Walter Wild, Secretary; 
thirty-two members. Address, 4821 Penn St., Frankford, Phila- 
delphia, Pa. 

No. 625. "Merry Quartet." Mildred Betts, President; Nancy 
Moore, Secretary ; four members. Address, T401 Gilpin Ave., Wil- 
mington, Del. " We are very anxious to do something for the 
magazine, as we all love it very much." 

No. 626. Ruth Miller, President ; Marguerite Stoner, Secretary ; 
fifteen members. Address, Miss Agnes Carpenter, 416 4th St., 
Des Moines, Iowa. "The children are enthusiastic over the 

No. 627. " Adam and Eve." 
Scott Sterling, President; Ros- 
coe Adams, Secretary ; two 
members. Address, Lock-box 
215, Jennings, Okla. Ter. 

No. 628. "Happy Four." 
Hilda Wilkie, President; Elea- 
nor Wilkie, Secretary ; four 
members. Address, Middle- 
town, Del. 

No. 629. "Sun Flower." 
Louise Gleason, President ; 
Edna Binswanger, Secretary ; 
four members. Address, 275 N. 
24th St., Portland, Ore. 

No. 630. Nathaniel Thayer, 
President; Marjorie Scott, Sec- 
cretary ; four members. Ad- 
dress, 12 Pleasant St., West- 
field, Mass. 

No. 631. "Pumpkins." Bes- 
sie Jones, President; Hilda 
Pethick, Secretary ; five mem- 
bers. Address, 63 Elizabeth St., 
Wilkes Bane, Pa. 

No. 632. Miss A. L. Dern, 
President and Secretary ; nine- 
teen members. Address, Church 
Home School, 58th St. and Bal- 
timore Ave., West Philadelphia. 

No. 633. " St. N. Y. C. C." Lillian McKay, President ; 
Lucile Byrne, Secretary; three members. Address, 11A N. H. 
St., Irvington-on-Hudson, N. Y. 


The St. Nicholas League awards gold and silver 
badges each month for the best poems, stories, draw- 
ings, photographs, puzzles, and puzzle-answers. 

A Special Cash Prize. To any League member who 
has won a gold badge for any of the above-named achieve- 
ments, and shall again win first place, a cash prize of 
five dollars will be awarded, instead of another gold 

Competition No. 44 will close May 20 (for foreign 
members May 25). The awards will be announced 
and prize contributions published in St. Nicholas for 

Verse. To contain not more than twenty-four lines, 
and may be illustrated, if desired, with not more than 
two drawings or photographs by the author. Title, " A 
Dream of the Sea." 

Prose. Story, article, or play of not more than four 
hundred words. It may be illustrated, if desired, with 
not more than two drawings by the author. Title to 
contain the word "Attic" or "Garret." May be 
humorous or serious. 

Photograph. Any size, mounted or unmounted, but 
no blue prints or negatives. Subject, " May-time." 

Drawing. India ink, very black writing-ink, or wash 
(not color), interior or exterior. Two subjects, " A 
Sketch from Nature" and " A Heading for August." 

Puzzle. Any sort, but must be accompanied by the 
answer in full. 

Puzzle-answers. Best, neatest, and most complete 
set of answers to puzzles in this issue of St. Nicholas. 

Wild-animal or Bird Photograph. To encourage 
the pursuing of game with a camera instead of a gun. 
For the best photograph of a wild animal or bird taken 
in its natural home : First Prize, five dollars and League 
gold badge. Second Prize, three dollars and League 
gold badge. Third Prize, League gold badge. 


Every contribution, of whatever kind, must bear the 
name, age, and address of the sender, and be indorsed 
as "original" by parent, teacher, or guardian, who 
must be convinced beyond doubt that the contribution 
is not copied, but wholly 
the work and idea of the 
sender. If prose, the num- 
ber of words should also 
be added. These things 
must not be on a separate 
sheet, but on the contri- 
butioii itself — if a manu- 
script, on the upper mar- 
gin ; if a picture, on the 
margin or back. Write or 
draw on one side of the 
paper only. A contributor 
may send but one contri- 
bution a month — not one 
of each kind, but one only. 
Address all communica- 
tions : 

The St. Nicholas League, 

Union Square, 

New York. 

'animal friends. by henry kiefer, age 12. 


simplicity of You may have noticed 
style. j n y 0ur games that some 

girls and boys talk very loud and yet say very 
little of importance, while others in a quieter 
way talk better sense. At first the louder 
talkers claim your attention and drown the 
voices of others. But as you learn the char- 
acters of your playmates, you find out what is 
to be expected from each, and then you listen 
with most care to those whose opinions you have 
found to be best worth hearing. 

It is the same with books. Some authors 
tell you their views in so extravagant a manner 
that you are likely to set too high a value upon 
their sayings, while other writers use so simple a 
style that you do not appreciate the importance 
of their words. Bacon and Helps are examples 
of the second class. They use the plainest 
words, but each is chosen with the utmost care, 
and the thoughts are far bigger than the words 
that carry them to the reader. Some scientific 
writers are examples of the first class. When 
translated into plain, every-day English, some 
thoughts that seemed profound become the 
merest commonplaces. " An instrument of 
percussion is of undoubted utility in the reha- 
bilitation of agricultural implements" really 
means little more than " a hammer is good for 
mending farm-tools " ; and yet the first sentence 
sounds really impressive, the second is seen at 
once to be merely commonplace. 


forelock." young students know the 
old gentleman with the scythe who is called 
Father Time, and also are aware that he ar- 
ranges his hair — the little he has still preserved 
from his own ravages — in a peculiar style, with 
a long lock upon the forehead. This lock is 
supposed to be peculiarly convenient for the 
hand of the punctual girl and boy. But per- 
haps you never considered that this forelock 
is an excellent thing to grasp when you mean 
to read the books you " mean to read." Tho- 
reau, as a recent magazine writer reminds us, 
says : " Read the best books first, or you may 
not have a chance to read them at all." This 

warning may seem to you exaggerated caution. 
"Absurd!" you say. "Why, if I live, I shall 
have years in which to read Sir Walter Scott. 
I can read him any time! " And meanwhile you 
give up a few hours to play, a few more to 
foolish books, a few to those delightful games 
of golf, ping-pong, and the weeks glide away. 
Meanwhile Father Time is plodding along with 
his forelock dangling, and you forget that he 
is n't ever going to stop in order to let you 
catch up. Father Time is a very steady-going 
old gentleman who never yet missed an ap- 
pointment, and — well, if you are going to read 
Scott, Thackeray, ' Dickens, Bacon, Milton, 
Coleridge, Tennyson, Bunyan, and Homer 
and Virgil, and so on, I should advise you 
to take a firm hold upon that dangling lock 
of hair Father Time has so kindly provided 
for our use. It won't hurt him, and it will 
help you more than you know. 

the ruskin The awarding of the 

essays. prizes for the best articles 

on Ruskin proved to be exceedingly difficult. 
One or two that were set aside as probably 
prize-winners proved, on a second examina- 
tion, to contain more than the three hundred 
words allowed by the terms of the competition. 
(See the February number.) Many were well 
written and faultless, but also meritless; they 
had no particular strength or originality. In 
this department the prizes are awarded pri- 
marily for literary qualities, including in that 
phrase the only thing that makes good literature 
worth while, that is, thought. Any child of fair 
education can by the use of a few reference- 
books find out the facts about the life of a man 
so distinguished as Ruskin; but more than the 
facts is wanted. The desirable quality in an 
essay on Ruskin is something that will make 
the reader understand the great power and in- 
fluence the man's writing carried to his readers. 
Many believe Ruskin was often in error, but 
some who differ with him most also revere and 
love him most. As a body the essays lacked 
force — they were colorless. If the subject had 
been " White Mice " or " Gilt Gingerbread," the 




young writers would have shown much the same 
cheerful indifference. Still, some of the essays 
were exceedingly good. The prize awards 
follow : 

Starr Hanford Lloyd, Angelica, N. Y. 
Sidney F. Kimball, Dorchester, Mass. 
Emma Dundon, New Albany, Ind. 

But the judges decided that there were three 
other essays deserving more than honorable 
mention, and so have awarded three more, sub- 
scriptions to the following : 

Donald W. Campbell, Wellsboro, Pa. 
Carl T. Thompson, Fitchburg, Mass. 

(each of whom is only ten years old), and to ' 

Marjorie Betts, London, Ontario, Canada, 

who wrote an excellent essay, though one that 
opposed the popular estimate of Ruskin. We 
print one of the prize essays : 



John Ruskin, born in February, 1819 (two weeks 
before Lowell), was the only son of a rich London 
merchant. His bringing up was of the stern Puritan 
kind. While still a youth he composed creditably and 
showed marked artistic tastes. 

After graduating from Oxford in 1842, he traveled 
abroad, devoting his time and fortune to the study of 
art and especially landscape-painting. In this' field he 
considered Turner supreme. 

From a small beginning in 1843 grew his great work 
" Modern Painters," in which he pleaded most earnestly 
for truth in art — scrupulous fidelity to nature in all 
particulars. He contended that art in medieval Italy 
was more natural and beautiful than that of the Renais- 
sance, and founded the school of Preraphaelitism. 

Among his other works, " The Seven Lamps of Archi- 
tecture " and "The Stones of Venice " attracted wide 
attention. These volumes he illustrated himself. His 
lectures, also, made art popular. 

He was a master of pure and forceful English. He 
wrote on poetry, mythology, and sociology, besides art. 
Young persons should read, in that literary gem " Ses- 
ame and Lilies," his counsel on the reading of books. 

Like Carlyle, he deplored the state of modern society. 
He spent vast sums in fostering his rather peculiar eco- 
nomic views ; for in all things he was true to his ideals. 
Ruskin regarded political economy as the science of 
producing not merely wealth but also good men and 

He urged purity and sincerity in life, as in art. He 

was a deeply religious and a very benevolent man — one 
fond of children. 

His declining years were quietly spent at delightful 
" Brantwood," in the picturesque hill country of Eng- 
land, where he died in 1900. 

Lofty in character and purpose, Ruskin did a noble 
work in his generation, standing for truth, whether in art 
or in humanity. 

the prize topic May, as has been re- 
for may. marked by many poets, lit- 

tle and big, is the month of flowers. So for 
this month we will think a little about the 
flower world. Let us, therefore, have for the 
current month the topic, " A Storied Flower." 
But in order that we shall not have merely a 
school composition on the subject (for "com- 
positions " are not desired here), let us consider 
what is wanted. The three prizes — books to 
the value of $3.00, $2.00, and $1.00, or three 
subscriptions to St. Nicholas, as the winners 
may prefer, will be awarded for the best three 
articles by writers under eighteen, telling what 
some beautiful flower suggests. Plenty of 
flowers are mentioned in history and in litera- 
ture. Look them up in the books, and write 
about what you find. Think of the English 
roses, the Scotch thistle, violets, primroses, ar- 
butus, daisies. Find out what poets tell you of 
them, and give us a literary, not botanical, 

If, however, this subject does not please you, 
you may take instead " At Sea in the ' May- 
flower.' " Write not more than three hundred 
words, and mail your work so as to reach this 
office on or before May 25, 1903. Address 
" Books and Reading," St. Nicholas Maga- 
zine, Union Square, New York City. 
reading with How many of you read 

the eyes shut, with your eyes shut? I think 
I hear a grand chorus of girls and boys laugh- 
ing, as they reply: "You can't read with your 
eyes shut ! " Nevertheless that is what many 
of you do at times. You have your eyelids 
open, to be sure, but somewhere between the 
seeing eye and the understanding brain there is 
a door closed tight. You see the letters and 
the words, but you do not read them. Being 
ready to turn the page, you find you don't re- 
member anything it said. This is no way to 
read — or to think. In Dog-Latin, " Do-ere 
one-o thinsr at a tiine-ibits" 


American School of Archeology, 
Athens, Greece. 

My dear St. Nicholas : I want to write and tell 
you about two trips I have just been on, here in Greece. 
The first one was to Thessaly ; and though I have lived 
in Greece for over ten years, I had never been here be- 
fore. We went to Volos by boat, and stopped at Chalcis 
on the way, where we watched the tide which changes 
so mysteriously. From Volos we went to Larissa, where 
we spent two nights. One day we drove to the Vale of 
Tempe, and how fresh and green everything looked 
compared to stony Attica ! And from where we were, 
we could look right across to Chalcidice, violet in the 
distance. Mount Olympus was splendid that day. And 
then, the view from the monasteries at the other end of 
Thessaly, where we went the next day, was beautiful ; 
we could look right down into the broad bed of the Pe- 
neius, and we could just get a glimpse of Mount Olym- 
pus from St. Stephanos monastery, where we spent a 
night. When we came back to Volos, we went up Mount 
Pelion with mules, and the view we had from the top 
was the best of all. We could see Mount Olympus and 
Parnassus, besides a fine view of the bay of Volos, and all 
the islands round about. And then what else do you 
think we saw? Well, we saw Mount Athos rising out 
of the clouds. We did n't expect to see it, for it is quite 
far off, being on the farthest of the three arms of Chalci- 
dice stretching out to sea. The view of the Pindus range 
is worth mentioning, too. I shall never forget this trip. 

The second trip was to Argolis ; but if I tell all about 
it in detail this letter will be too long to be printed, so 
I will only state the most important things. We went 
to Mycenae, Epidaurus, Argos, and to Tiryns, the old- 
est city known of in Europe. At Mycenae we ate in 
the so-called " Treasury of Atreus," as it was raining. 
The thing that impressed me the most was the enormous 
lintel, which, being in one piece, measures between thirty- 
four and thirty-five feet in length, and about seventeen 
feet in width. The " Gate of the Lions " was splendid, 
too, and the theater at Epidaurus. I could write pages 
about all I have seen here in Greece. It is a beau- 
tiful country, and I shall feel very sorry to leave it, 
even though I am anxious to get back to America. I 
have been taking you for only a few months, and enjoy 
you so much. 

I have lived here ever since I was five years old. I 
am now fifteen. Your interested reader, 

Dorothy Hardy Richardson. 

live next door, and I like them very much, and I share 
my St. Nicholas with them. 

Your loving friend, 

Eugenia Caldwell (age 8). 

Roslyn, L. I. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I live at Roslyn now. I have 
a little chestnut pony with a very white mane and tail 
named "Ponce." I named him that because he came 
from Ponce, Porto Rico. 

Last summer I rode him in the Lenox Horse Show, 
and he took the blue ribbon in a class of eight. 

Here is a picture of him. 

pony "ponce." 
I remain faithfully yours, Fred Godwin. 

Dear St. Nicholas: We are going to have a play 
for St. Mary's Hospital in Easter week. It is the little 
play that came out in the February number. All the 
members of our club are going to partake of it. We 
meet every week, and the dues are five cents. 
Your interested reader, 

Margaret C. Richey. 
P.S. Our president has resigned, so we vote for a 
new one. 

Knoxville, Tenn. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I like you very much. lean 
hardly wait for you to come. I goto school at the Insti- 
tute. I live in Knoxville, Tennessee, on Fort Saunders, 
where one of the great battles was fought in the war be- 
tween the North and South. I am a little Southern girl, 
but my best friends are two little Northern girls, who 

Fort Tremont, S. C. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I am a little boy ten years 
old. My father is an army officer. I have been taking 
your magazine since Christmas, and like it very much. 
I have a real bugle, and I practise on it, and I am going 
to learn all the calls. There are no boys in the post, but 
I am going to Fort Smith, Arkansas, soon, to stay with 
my grandfather, and I will have a fine time. 
Your loving reader, 

William M. Cravens, Jr. 

Interesting letters were also received from Adrian 
Fletcher, Calvin Wells Griggs, Dorothy Blackader, Mar- 
cella Dalgleish, Nadine Waller, Ivy Varian Walshe, 
Pauline Schaeffer, H. Mabel Sawyer, Dorothy L. Smith, 
Hester M. Conklin, Mary Mallon, Robert M. Driver, 
Gertrude V. P. Moran, Kenneth B. Hay, and Hilton 
S. Pedley. 



Word-square, i. Acre. 2. Clay. 3. Rake. 4. Eyes. 

A Concealed Poet. Initials, The Bells; finals, Edgar Poe. 
1. The-y. 2. Hid-e. 3. Egg-s. 4. Boa-t. 5. Ear-n. 6. Lop-e. 

7. Leo-n. 8. Sue-t 

Zigzag. April Fools' Day. 1. African. 2. Apparel. 3. Strange. 
4. Uncivil. 5. Triplet. 6. Beliefs. 7. Orinoco. 8. Dungeon. 
9. Popular. 10. Harshly, n. Induced. 12. Nations. 13. 

Illustrated Central Acrostic. Wordsworth. 1. Towel. 2. 
Crows. 3. Carol. 4. Caddy. 5. Masks. 6. Mower. 7. Ghost. 

8. Horse. 9. Latch. 10. Other. 

Diagonal. Emerson. 1. Example. 2. Smarter. 3. Stencil. 
4. Roaring. 5. Benison. 6. Mention. 7. Mansion. 
Primal Acrostic and Zigzag. From 1 to 2, Amesbury ; 3 

Allow. 2. Moths. 3. 
7. Rogue. 8. Yearn. 

Numerical Enigma. 

to 4, Whittier. 
Blunt. 6. Until 

Ennui. 4. Spite. 5. 

f T is the noon of the springtime, yet never a bird 
On the wind-shaken elm or the maple is heard. 

Novel Double Diagonal. From 1 to 2, Easter ; 3 to 4, lilies. 
1. Effect. 2. Dainty. 3. Listen. 4. Pretty. 5. Leader. 6. Pil- 
lar. 7. Follow. 8. Divide. 9. Regret. 10. Bounds. 

A Cat-and-Dog Puzzle. i. Catamount. 2. Dogfish. 3. 
Catastrophe. 4. Dogma. 5. Catkin. 6. Dog-star. 7. Cata- 
logue. 8. Dogwood. 

Diamond, i. S. 2. Beg. 3. Seven. 4. Gem. 5. N. 

To our Puzzlers : Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the 15th of each month, and 
should be addressed to St. Nicholas Riddle-box, care of The Century Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City. 

Answers to all the Puzzles in the February Number were received, before December 15th, from S. L. and B. — Joe Car- 
lada — M. McG .— Paul F. Shoutal — Adeline Wiss — Edward McKey Very — AHil and Adi — Marie J. Knobel — Daniel Milton Miller — 
"The Four Puzzlers " — Mildred Lee Dawson — Willamette Partridge — Doris Hackbusch — Clara J. McKenney — Robert Porter Crow — 
Mollie G. — "Johnny Bear" — Mary Chisholm — W. S. Weiss — Amelia S. Ferguson — Janet P. Avery — Louise Hammond — E. H. G. 
Havre — Elizabeth T. Harned — "Chuck" — Courtland Kelsey — Allen West — Stella Weinstein — John W. Fisher, Jr. — Alice Taylor 
Huyler — Osmond Kessler Fraenkel — Ernest H. Watson — Alice C. Martin — Hannah T. Thompson. 

Answers to Puzzles in the February Number were received, before February 15th, from f. Moore, 1 — Nanna Rearden, 2 — 
C. McGrew, 1 — A. G. Gordon, 1— Lucile Gass, 2 — A. G. Fisk, 1— K. Nichols, 1 — Florence Guida Steel, 5 — A. T. Larkins, 1 — H. E. 
Werner, 1 — J. Mason, r — J. B. De Motte, Jr., 1 — Louise B. Sloss, 4 — Dorothy Fisk, 2 — W. H. Warren, 1 — " Two Torontonians," 3 

— R. Young, 1 — E. Underwood, 1 — Coma R. Alford, 2 — W. Morton, 1 — Margaret C. Wilby, 6 — L. Legge, 1 — Dean F. Ruggles, 4 

— "Get," 3 — Marie Blucher, 4 — No name, Orange, 5 — E. Cellarius, 1 — I. Rulison, 1 — J. Koontz, 1 — Julia M. Addison, 2 — L. M. 
Haines, 1. 


My primals and finals each name a military school in 
the United States. 

Cross-words (of equal length) : 1. A missile weapon. 
2. A nook. 3. Grammatical terms. 4. On every side. 
5. Fat. 6. A town of Tioga County. 7. The French 
name for a day of the week. 8. A town in Herkimer 
County. 9. To begin. 

Howard rumsey (League Member). 

7. From a wild dog of India take one letter, and leave 
an opening. 

8. From a black-and-tan take four letters, and leave 
to make a mistake. 

When the eight little words have been rightly guessed 
and written one below another, the final letters will spell 
the name of a man who loved dogs well. 



(Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

1. From a fierce fighting dog take three letters, and 
leave an animal that becomes furious at the sight of any- 
thing red. 

2. From a dog used in duck-hunting take four letters, 
and leave a German watering-place. 

3. From a dog that has rescued many travelers in the 
Alps take ten letters, and leave a little preposition. 

4. From a fierce dog mentioned in "Uncle Tom's 
Cabin " take five letters, and leave a vital fluid. 

5. From a watch-dog take five letters, and leave a 

6. From Bob, Son of Battle, take three letters, and 
leave a falsehood. 

(Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 


1. To pour out. 2. An enigma. 

Anything taken and preserved as a 

Deadly. 6. Undisturbed. 

Cross-words : 
3. To value. 4. 
memorial of victory. 5 
7. The decisive moment. 

From I to 12, a great Greek comedian. 


6 7 r 




(Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

All the words described contain the same number of 
letters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another in the order here given, the zigzag, beginning 
at the upper left-hand letter and ending with the lower 
left-hand letter, will spell an annual holiday. 

Cross-words: i. Hangings. 2. The god of elo- 
quence. 3. A place where things are made. 4. A femi- 
nine name. 5. Comes back. 6. In place of. 7. Idea. 
8. Applause. 9. Grieves. 10. Attractive. II. In- 
sanity. 12. Fathers and mothers. 13. Longed. 


5. Doubly behead and curtail a pattern of excellence, 
and leave a shred. 

6. Doubly behead and curtail prudent, and leave 

7. Doubly behead and curtail a mooring-place, and 
leave an old piece of Anglo-Saxon money. 

8. Doubly behead and curtail a place where coal is 
dug, and leave a fermented drink. 

9. Doubly behead and curtail ardor, and leave a cave. 

10. Doubly behead and curtail punishment for sins, 
and leave a feminine nickname. 

11. Doubly behead and curtail put off, and leave a 



ALL the objects pictured may be described by words 
of four letters. Take the first two letters of the first 
picture and then the second two of the next picture. 
These four letters will describe the third picture. 
Designed by 
Lawrence H. riggs (League Member). 


(Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

When the following words have been doubly beheaded 
and doubly curtailed, the remaining words will contain a 
zigzag. By beginning at the upper left-hand corner, 
a May holiday may be spelled out. 

1. Doubly behead and curtail without courage, and 
leave middle. 

2. Doubly behead and curtail pertaining to comets, 
and leave to encounter. 

3. Doubly behead and curtail relating to Turkey, and 
leave a masculine nickname. 

4. Doubly behead and curtail a gland near the ear, 
and leave to decay. 


1. The house-dog found, 1-2-3-4-5-6 up in his kennel, 
a 1-2-3 which had been 4-5-6 there by the comfort to be 
seen within. 

2. With an 1-2-3-4-5-6 feeling of compassion, I went 
1-2 to the hospital 3-4-5-6 reserved for the blind. 

3. Resolved not to I-2-3-4-5-6-7 any of the rules, the 
student practised on his 1-2-3-4 and then 5-6-7 his 

4. Until he should 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 in his behavior, the 
I -2-3 was not allowed to 4-5-6-7 about the grounds. 

wilmot s. close (League Member). 


All the words described contain the same number of 
letters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another, the diagonal, beginning at the upper left-hand 
letter and ending with the lower right-hand letter, will 
spell the name of a tune often sung by large gatherings. 

Cross-words: i. Old. 2. Very large. 3. Merci- 
ful. 4. A kind of small cucumber much used for 
pickles. 5. Brigands. 6. To beat severely. 7. A 
character in " Ivanhoe." 

Helen bigelow (League Member). 


I. Upper Left-hand Square: i. Low. 2. A 
Biblical name. 3. To exchange for money. 4. A 
feminine name. 

II. Upper Right-hand Square: i. A quadruped. 
2. Comfort. 3. Questions. 4. Repose. 

III. Central Square : 1. A flower. 2. The 
coast. 3. The entire amount. 4. To rub out. 5. To 
let again. 

IV. Lower Left-hand Square: i. A luminous 
body. 2. Part of a fork. 3. A feminine name. 4. 
To raise. 

V. Lower Right-hand Square: i. A journey. 2. 
To be borne in a carriage. 3. A thought. 4. A fruit. 

Arnold post (League Member). 



All rights secured. V hSU*^^ i^&~^ 

May, 1903. 






THERE has been a great deal of criticism of the new 
issue of stamps for the United States. The two 
denominations that came out first, the eight-cent and thir- 
teen-cent, were very pleasing in appearance, and would 
have been considered remarkable stamps had they not 
been followed by numerous other values of similar de- 
sign. The general opinion of collectors seems to be that 
the excessive ornamentation of this issue renders the 
stamps inferior to those formerly in use. 

THE stamps issued for the French offices in Canton 
and Hoi Hao have been superseded by the same 
stamps surcharged with the word " Chine. ' ' A very small 
issue of some of the denominations was made; therefore 
the stamps surcharged Canton and Hoi Hao will in some 
cases become rare. It is said that there were only six 
hundred each of the one-franc and five-franc of Hoi Hao. 

A COMMEMORATIVE stamp has been issued to 
celebrate the four hundredth anniversary of the 
discovery of St. Lucia. It is printed in two colors, the 
central portion in green showing rocky islands known as 
the Pitons, said to rise about 
four thousand feet above 
the level of the sea. The 
frame is printed in brown. 
The general effect is pleas- 
ing. An occasional com- 
memorative issue is a very 
good thing in attracting, as it 
does, attention to the country 
issuing it. There can be no objection to such issues 
whenever the events are of sufficient importance to war- 
rant commemoration. Collectors usually like to obtain 
such issues, and the historical interest which attaches to 
them is of great importance. There would be little fault 
found if the commemorative issue was the only thing 
with which the collector had to contend. 


THERE are some countries from which there are put 
forth frequently " bogus " issues ; that is, stamps 
which are not issued by the government, and which are 
intended by the individuals who print them merely as a 
means of deceiving collectors and securing their money. 
It is well at all times to be careful about buying anything 
that comes from the north coast of Africa. The recently 
issued stamps of Benadir have been shown to be as 
fraudulent as the old Sedang or Brunei issues, neither of 
which was made by an established government. Names 
of towns having a very small postal service are used by 
the makers of bogus issues, since it is easier in this way 
to conceal the deception. 


THE Australian Commonwealth has not made a regu- 
lar issue of stamps, as the intention was to con- 
tinue the separate postal service for each of the colo- 
nies for a period of five years from the date of the 
establishment of the Commonwealth. An arrangement, 
however, has been made whereby postage-due stamps 
have been issued for use in any part of the Common- 
wealth. The design, formerly used exclusively by New 
South Wales, was at first altered by the removal of the 
letters N. S. W. from the lower part of each stamp. 
The plate made in this way presented a very poor ap- 
pearance ; therefore a new engraving was made in 
which the whole design appears. The earlier stamps 
from the plate with the letters N. S. W. obliterated are 
likely to become quite scarce, especially in unused 

THE provisional issues of stamps recently made for 
Portugal have been superseded by stamps of the 
regular type, corresponding in denomination with all the 
surcharged values made. There has also appeared a 
new set for Inhambane, which includes all the values now 
in use for other Portuguese colonies. 

THE stamps of the Roman States bearing upon them 
the picture of the miter and keys form a curious 
and interesting series. It is probable that collectors 
would be more anxious to secure these were it not for 
the fact that there have been many reprints of them. 
This statement, however, does not apply to the earliest 
issue, there being no reprints of the stamps of 1852. 
The stamps on glazed paper are those which have been 


THE countries whose stamps are best worth collect- 
ing are those which have been careful to issue no- 
thing except what was necessary for postal requirements. 
Such countries are Russia, Switzerland, Servia, and, with 
a few exceptions, the British colonies. Persian stamps 
are not worth buying until after their use has been dis- 
continued, since when this occurs they are demonetized 
and sold at much less than their face value. Some of 
the later issues of the stamps of Mauritius are scarce 
because it is a common thing for inhabitants of the is- 
lands to buy up special issues that are made and hold 
them for high prices. They may be purchased at fair 
prices after the speculators become tired of holding them. 
Counterfeit surcharges are usually found upon stamps 
which are common when not surcharged and very scarce 
in surcharged condition. They are commonly found un- 
canceled, but false cancelations are sometimes applied 
to them in order to make the deception more difficult to 




mm* stamps, etc. wmm 





Different stamps pasted on sheets 
ready to mount in Album, $5.00, 
post free. 

Send for new circular of prices, etc. 
Would you like to try our Approval Sheets at 50% 
discount ? 

Scott Stamp & Coin Co., 

18 East 23d Street, 

New York, N. Y. 



Send for our list of these stamps. ' Many 
bargains. Cabot issue, i, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6c, 

unused, for 36c, post-paid; 1866 24c. blue, 37c, post-paid. 

The British Colonial Stamp Co., 217-218 Temple Bldg., London, Canada 

300 foreign stamps, 10c; 104 varieties, Bulgaria, Malta, 
10c; 200 varieties, 25c; 300 varieties, 50c; 500 vari- 
eties, $1.25; 1000 varieties, $4.00; 40 varieties, U. S., 10c. 
132-page list free. Sheets of stamps on approval at 50% 

discount. I). Crowell Stamp Co., 143 Euclid Ave., Cleveland, 0. 

STAMPS finely mixed, only 10c 50 all dirt"., 5c. 100 diff. 
Corea, Mexico, etc., 10c 1000 hinges (union), 10c 40 
diff. U.S. and Canada, 10c Agts. wanted, 50%. List 
Old stamps bought. Union Stamp €0. , Dept. 0, St. Louis, Bo. 

CDCC for a 2-cent stamp to any collector who 
■ ntfc has never written us before (no others), 
big 6c green and 10c violet Guatemala 1897 
wrapper stamps. Catalogue value, 30 cents. 
NEW ENG. STAMP CO., 21 Bromfleld St., Boston. 

FREE! A set of beautiful U.S. stamps, face value $6.00, for ad- 
dress of collector and return postage. Finest sheets 50% com. 
Agents wanted. KOLONA STAMP CO., Dept. N, Dayton, Ohio. 

STAMPS 10 ° a11 different Peru, Cuba, Bolivia, 
illHllirtfi Mexico, Argentine, Brazil, Costa Rica, 
Turkey, Persia, Tunis, etc., and ALBUM, ONLY 10c. 
1000 fine mixed, 20c. 1000 hinges, 10c. 60 different 
U. S., 25c. Agents wanted, 50%. 1903 List FREE. 
C. A. Stegman,Dept. 15,5941 Cote Brilliante av., St. Louis, Mo. 

list, 2C 4 large U. S. Cents, 20c 50% disc, on U. S. and 
FOREIGN STAMPS ; seconds at 70% disc. Estab. 1883. 

A varieties U. S. Revs., Cat. value 27c, for the names 
**" of two Collectors and 2c postage. 40 Japan Post- 
age and Revenue, mounted on pretty sheet, only 25c; 
20 Paris Exposition stamps, 10c; 8c. Martha Washing- 
ton, used, 4c; 13c. Harrison, used, 6c Lists free. 
Agents wanted, 50% com. Toledo Stamp Co., Toledo, 0. 



"Monkey Wrench 


The cut is about one-half actual size, 
and illustrates the smallest perfect work- 
ing Monkey Wrench in the world. Made 
of German silver, an ideal watch-charm, 
or just the thing for a class pin. 

These wrenches make most attractive 
and inexpensive souvenirs, whist prizes, 
or favors for the german. You will 

delighted with them. 


25 Gents Each by Mail 



Soudan Camel 2var. for 5'cts. Uruguay 8 var. for iocts. 
Nyassa Giraffe 7 var. for 20 cts. Japan Wedding 2 var. for 7 cts. 
Postage 2 cts. Lists free. Geo. M. Fisk, Vermont Ave., Toledo, 0. 

CTAMPS FREE for addresses of collectors. The more names, 
*^ the more stamps. Album & cata. free. Agts. 50%. 105 In.- 
China, a U. S. worth 25c, W. I., etc., 5c Billiard, Sta. A, Boston. 

CTAUDC Choice approval sheets at 50% commission. 
O I Mill I Ol References required. 100 varieties Foreign, 2c 

Dept. B. 


coO/k mm. 

10 var. Japanese to all who apply for sheets at 
50% com. W. T. McKay, 673 Broad St., Newark, N. J. 

Q Persia ioc, 3 Bermuda 5c, 6 Newfoundland 12c, 50 Spain 35c, 
^ 6 Trinidad ioc., 4 Swan River 5c, 4 Corea 8c, 5 Martinique 
8c, 6 Hong Kong 8c, 4 St. Vincent 14c, Album 500 spaces 6c 
Cata. free. The Colonial Co., 2435 Michigan Ave., Chicago. 

Boys who 
make Money 

after School Hours 


Over 3000 Boys 

in various parts 
of the country are 
making money in 
their spare time 
selling The 
Saturday Evening 
Post. Some make 
as much as $io.oo 
and $15.00 a week. 
Any boy who 
reads this can do 
the same. 

IN A DAINTY little booklet, which 
we will send to any boy free, the 
most successful of our boy agents tell 
in their own way just how they have 
made a success of selling 

The Saturday 
Evening Post 

There are many stories of real busi- 
ness tact. Pictures of the boys are 
given. Send for this booklet and we 
will forward with it full information 
how you can begin this work. No 
money required to start. We will send 
Ten Copies of the magazine the first 
week free. Write to-day. 

The Curtis Publishing Company 
484 Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 








A CoffCC Toper needs a bracer in the morning, a cup of 
coffee to steady him or her. Why ? 

Coffee is not so strong a stimulant as liquor, but is still an 
alkaloid stimulant, and so long as it is used, the nerves will go 
shaky and the bracers be needed, and disease of some sort will 
surely set in. The older one is, the harder it is to break away 
from coffee. 

It is easy to quit the coffee habit by shifting to Postum, — 
easy and wonderfully healthful. 

Neither Brain nor Body can work properly when the nerves 
are shaky and the body sick. 

The coffee lover can have his or her coffee and be well, 
happy and strong if that coffee is Postum. 

There is a reason. 




l\ i 

F- F 

f r 


f c 


* ti 




LP 7 








Introducing the Ralston Purina. Miller — a good, whole- 
some fellow, who makes all the good things in checkerboard packages, 
at the Big Mill, "where purity is paramount." Says the MILLER: 

"When you grow older, you will probably hear about 'proteids' and 'starches' and other 
funny things — but all you've got to remember is this: Food is like clothes; there's food for 
warm days and food for cold days, and you need both kinds, same as clothes. Oats is an 
overcoat food and Ralston Health Oats is mighty good on cool mornings. Wheat is the 
all-year-around food — that's why you don't get tired of Ralston Breakfast Food. Whenever 
I see a field of wheat wavin' in the breeze and think of the millions of folk eating Ralston 
Breakfast Food and whole wheat bread made out of Purina Health Flour, it makes me feel 
I haven't lived for nothing. 

I "Just be sure that what you eat is pure and that it tastes good, and be cheerful. The folk 
who go to their meals as if they were goin' to the doctor — will go to the doctor." 

Send for the "MENU MAKER" it's Free. 

The Ralston Purina Company, St. Louis. 


The Charm of Perfect Health 

is one of the greatest gifts that Nature can bestow. It comes 
to those who obey her laws. Nature's food is grain — and fruit. 

"Il lnltn^it n 

is whole wheat impregnated with barley^ malt, seasoned with 
salt, thoroughly* cooked, daintily^ flaked, toasted to nut-brown 
crispness. It makes a delightful, appetizing, satisfying meal — 
morning, noon, night. Delicious served with fresh, luscious fruit. 

No work, no heat; just cream — then eat 

See coupons in Malta-Vita packages, telling how to secure a $350.00 Kimball Piano and other valuable articles free. 

c7Walta-Vita Pure Food Co., Battle Creek, Michigan, U. S. A. 

iii i i i i i ii i i iii i ii i i i iii i iiiiii iii iii i iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw 


St. Nicholas Leagtte Advertising Competition No. 24. 




Time to send answers is up May 25, ipoj. Prizes awarded in July number. 

One of the most amusing and popular of all our competitions, and one especially adapted to 
the eariy summer days, because it is not laborious, is the Patchwork such as resulted in the amus- 
ing booklet "Alice in Blunderland" (a copy of which will be sent to any reader who will send 
10 cents to learn how humorous our competitors can be when not trying to be sedate and 
dignified). We are now to have a new Patchwork Competition. 

The usual prizes will be awarded — 35 in all, amounting to $50 : one of $5.00, three of $3.00 
each, five of $2.00 each, and twenty-six of $1.00 each — for the most ingenious and amusing 
pictorial designs made up according to the rules that follow: 


1. Designs must be made by combining 
pieces of advertisements cut from the adver- 
tising pages of The Century or St. Nicholas 
magazines, the numbers from November, 1902, 
to May, 1903, both inclusive. 

2. Each competitor must put each design 
upon a sheet of paper not over 10x12 inches 
in size, and may submit not over three sepa- 
rate designs. 

3. Nothing must be added to the pieces of 
pictures or text cut from the pages. And each 

design must tell what advertisements were used 
in making it. 

4. Upon the upper left-hand corner of each 
sheet put your name, age, address, and the 
number (24) of the competition. You may 
have help from your elders in this competition, 
and need not add any indorsement of origi- 

5. Competing designs must be mailed to 
reach the judges not later than May 25, 1903. 

6. Address 

Advertising Competition No. 24, 
St. Nicholas League, The Century Co., Union Square, New York. 


Any reader of St. Nicholas may compete, 
if not over eighteen years of age. The regular 
League competitions do not prevent you from 
entering also in the Advertising Competitions. 
Suggestions for advertisements are always wel- 
come, and if u'sed by the business men for 

whom they are designed, they will be paid for. 
The former Patchwork competition was an- 
nounced in May, 1902, and the report on the 
contest will be found in St. Nicholas for 
August, 1902. We advise competitors in the 
present contest to examine that report. 


St. Nicholas League Advertising Competition No. 21 — " Wheel of Fortune" Puzzle, 
published in St. Nicholas for February, ipoj. 

Here follows a correct list of the advertisements in the "Wheel of Fortune": 

Baker's Cocoa. 

Brownie Cameras. 

Cannon's Toy Blocks. 

Carmel Soap. 

Copley Prints. 

Cox's Gelatine. 

Craddock's Blue Soap. 


Denver and Rio Grande. 

Dixon's Pencils. 

11. Eastman Kodak. 

12. Edison Phonograph. 

13. Grape Nuts. 

14. Hand Sapolio. 

15. Hi-Lo. 

16. Huyler's Cocoa. 

17. Ivory Soap. 

18. Libby's Food. 

19. Lifebuoy Soap. 

20. Lowney's Chocolate. 


Malta Vita. 




Mellin's Food. 








Northern Pacific. 


Simplex Piano Player. 


Pears' Soap. 


Sorosis Shoes. 


Pluto Spring. 


Southern Pacific. 


Postum Coffee. 


Swift's Premium Hams 


Ralston Breakfast Food. 


Wabash Line. 


Rock Island System. 


Weber Pianos. 


Royal Baking Powder. 

Besides these names, there were the names "Jim Dumps" and "Sunny Jim," both of which 
were counted as allowable; and the words "Coal," "Dampers," " Locomotives," " Lotus Files," 
"Omo," "Pilot," "Roach Trap," and variations of these, which were not counted correct, since 
they are either not the names of advertisements, or else were not advertised in St. Nicholas in 
1902. All who got the thirty-nine names correct are among the prize-winners, whether they 
added other names or not. 




AWARD OF PRIZES— Continued from preceding page. 

St. Nicholas League Advertising Competition No. 21 — " Wheel of Fortune" Puzzle, 
published in St. Nicholas for February, ipoj. 

One First Prize, 

$5.00: Edward T. Hills (17), Baltimore, Md. 

Three Second Prizes, 
$?.oo each : 

Five Third Prizes, 
$2.00 each.- 

Margaret W. Kimball (13), Providence, R. I. 
Isabella Vosburgh (14), Oak Park, 111. 
Mary R. Hutchinson (15), Burlington, Iowa. 

Olga McCormick (13), Farmington, Iowa. 
Madge Smith (14), Ithaca, N. Y. 
Elizabeth Bishop Ballard (17), Pittsfield, Mass. 
Margarethe Frankel (13), Mercer, Pa. 
Dorothy Kern (10), Philadelphia, Pa. 

Twenty-six Consolation Prizes, $1.00 each. 

Margaret P. Kern (11). 
Howard Rushton (13). 
Caroline C. Kennedy (14). 
Bessie Ballard (14). 
Lois J. Bell (13). 
Hester M. Conklin (15). 
Laura E. Clark (17). 
SaraL. Kellogg (16). 

Katharine F. Burt (12) 

Olive R. T. Griffin (12). 
Oscar I. Koch (13). 
Harriet Marston (14). 
Edwin B. Arnold (11). 
Frieda F. Boynton (13). 
A. Elizabeth Goldberg (10). 
Philip Robinson (16). 
Irma Pretzinger (14). 

Margaret W. Wandell (16). 
Bruce R. Ware 2d (15). 
Robert R. Childs (15). 
Agnes R. Lane (14). 
Elizabeth D. Lord (12). 
Ailsa L. Abercrombie (13). 
Margaret C. Getchell (11). 
Caroline C. Everett (16). 

Laura S. Dow (14). 

The following competitors are deserving of honorable mention : 

Florence E. Yoder (14). 

Clare Wilcox (14). 

Clara W. Burnham (13). 

Irene Dalton (16). 

Ruth Baker (14). 

Mary H. Cunningham (15). 

Marjorie Beebe (12). 

Janet Ritchie (16). 

Holman Pearl (14). 
Emmeline Harbison (13). 
Faith Kelly (14). 
Florence L. Evans (13). 
Helen W. Prescott (14). 
Kate Hager (14). 
Naivette L. Gilpin (12). 


The excellent alphabetic advertisement of 
Sorosis Shoes that was printed in a full page of 
the March number, was accidentally credited 
to Miss Edith Daggett* instead of to its real 
author, Mr. Graham Hawley, of Tarrytown, 
New York. 

We offer sincere apologies to both of the 
prize-winners. And, in order to avoid such 
errors in the future, we ask our competitors to 
see that their names are written on every sepa- 
rate sheet submitted. When pinned or gum- 
med, extra slips will unavoidably be now and 
then detached. If your name, age, and ad- 
dress, and the number of the competition ap- 
pear on the upper left-hand corner of each 
sheet, you will have done everything possible 
to prevent your work from being wrongly cred- 
ited or lost. 

These two letters, recently received from 
one of the largest advertising agencies in the 
country, mean much more than any award of 
prizes in the St. Nicholas League Advertising 
Competitions : 

March 24, 1903. 

Editor Advtg. Competition St. Nicholas League, 
Union Square, New York City. 
Dear Sir:— We have been attracted by the designs 
submitted in Competition No. 4, by 

If you will send us local address, we will be 

very much obliged. Kindly address your letter to the 
writer, and oblige, 

Very truly yours, 

March 27, 1903. 
Mr. G. H H, 

The Century Co., New York City. 
Dear Sir: — We have your favor of March 25th, to- 
gether with the sketches made by 

We wish to thank you for your very kind attention to 
this, and for allowing us to see the sketches. We are 
returning them under separate cover, and have written 
to , giving him some subjects on which to work, 

telling him that we would be glad to purchase any of 
his ideas that prove available for our use. 
Thanking you again, we remain, 

Very truly yours, 










A package makes five 
gallons. Sold every- 
where, or sent by 
mail on receipt 
of 25 cents. 





The Phonograph is distinguished -from other 
talking machines by its absolute freedom from scratching 
and pure, natural tones of music or voice. 

The Phonograph is infinitely superior. 

The Phonograph is sold in 5,000 stores. Call at 
the nearest dealer's and hear the modem Phonograph 
with the new Edison Moulded Records and the New 
Reproducer. Phonographs from $10.00 to $100.00. 
Records, 50c: $5.00 per dozen. 


NEW YORK. 8) Chambers St. CHICAGO. 304 Wabash Ave. SAN FRANCISCO. 9jJ 

Market St. EUROPE, 32 Rempart Saint Georges, ArrrwEaP. Belgium. 

Second Prize, " Pearline Girls ' 



Irma Stahl, Age 18. 
1819 G Street, N. W., Washington, D. C. 





FREE A Chinarette Painting Set, 
tray, brush and colors, to every pur- 
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I am organizing several personally 
conducted excursions to 

California, for April and May. 
May I send you full particulars of 
special advantages offered? Some 
of the excursions are one-way only, 
in tourist sleepers for homeseekers. 
Others are round-trip, in first-class 
Pullmans, for general sightseers; 
good, if desired, on limited trains. 
The rates are very low. 
Accommodations are excellent. 
I have selected the best California 
line — the Santa Fe — and con- 
fidently guarantee a delightful outing. 
Why not go this spring and see 
California at its prettiest? Such an 
opportunity seldom comes. 
Don't miss it. 

Write to W. J. Black, 13 12 Gt. Northern Bldg., Chicago, 
and receive in reply full particulars, with copy of beautiful 
book about California. 



To St. Nicholas Leaguers 

Ask the Circulation Mana= 
ger of Outing, 230 Fifth 
Avenue, New York City, to 
tell you how to earn the 
biggest prize of all, a trip to 
the World's Fair at St. Louis 


A Personally Conducted Trip under the guidance of the Raymond & 
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by Special Train. Fine Accommodations for one week at one of the best 
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and October, 1904, these Dates to be Announced Later. 


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Mrs. Leslie Morgan's Boarding and 
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Reopens Wednesday, October first. 

California, Placer County, Alta. 
A f A CCJ 7 T_r ATT ls a boys' school in the Sierra 
aUAOOlA nALL, Nevada Mountains. It prepares 
for the best colleges and universities. The boys have horses, 
boats and guns, and take frequent camping trips. 

The school has a camp from June to September in the high 
mountains near Lake Tahoe.a region famous for trout fishing and 
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The Headmaster will be pleased to send information and pholo- 
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ROVHOOn A new mag a zine for those interested in the 
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MAD* m 




Nursery. Toilet and Bath. 









Happy Old Mother Hubbard 

a !'..'! mis 

P'gjFfT yippffp""''^^ 

When Old Mother Hubbard found her cupboard bare of bones, she decided to give her poor dog the loaf 
of bread upon which she had relied for breakfast, which would have resulted in her going hungry, but for the 
fact that she discovered a can of 


/ and this nutritious and sustaining beverage enabled her to do without the bread; so that the dog and Old 
« Mother Hubbard were both satisfied. 

(Trial Size for 15 Cents in Stamps) 

We will send the Lowney Receipt Book, telling how to make Chocolate Bon-Bons at home, to anyone who 
writes and mentions St. Nicholas. 
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Use the Ivory Soap, 99X°° Per Cent. Pure. 


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LIBBY'S (Natural Flavor) 

are known and used in almost 
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New and original advertising 
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Whether you are a member 
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Our booklet, "How to Make Good Things to Eat" 
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First Prize, $50£2 in ash 
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The illustrations (not copyrighted) may be either drawings in pen, pencil or wash, or 
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Prize Competition, Advertising Department, 

Prize Winner Competition, No. 19, St. Nicholas League. 

Design made by Fred Sterns, Chicago. Published by 

Libby, McNeill & Libby— Full page in March St. Nicholas. 

i Libby, McNeill <&. Libby, Cbicag'o. 

LThe List of Prize Winners will be published in the St. Nicholas for July. iff 

The Old Reliable 




Absolutely Pure 




should ring the "All's Well" in 
every household where the wonder- 
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buoy Soap — is used. Lifebuoy is 
more than soap but costs no more. 

At all dealers. Money refunded if 
not entirely satisfactory 


Money to Cooks 

$7,500.00 Donated, to be 
Divided Among Family Cooks. 

The sum of $7,500.00 will be distributed be- 
tween now and midsummer among family cooks, 
in 735 prizes ranging from $200.00 to $5.00. 

This is done to stimulate better cooking in the 
family kitchen. The contest is open to paid cooks 
(drop the name "hired girl," call them cooks if 
they deserve it) or to the mistress of the household 
if she does the cooking. The rules for contest 
are plain and simple. Each of the 735 winners 
of money prizes will also receive an engraved 
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diplomas bear the big gilt seal and signature of 
the most famous food company in the world, The 
Postum Cereal Co., Ltd., of Battle Creek, Mich., 
the well-known makers of Postum Coffee and 
Grape-Nuts. Write them and address Cookery 
Department, No. 122, for full particulars. 

This remarkable contest among cooks to win 
the money prizes and diplomas will give thou- 
sands of families better and more delicious meals, 
as well as cleaner kitchens and a general improve- 
ment in the culinary department, for the cooks 
must show marked skill and betterment in ser- 
vice to win. Great sums of money devoted to 
such enterprises always result in putting human- 
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health, comfort and happiness. 






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The June Number 








The seasonable food products that are so easily prepared and 
quickly served. They answer every call, be it the breakfast bell, 
the dinner bell, or the wedding bell. Each piece branded on the 
rind "Swift's Premium— U. S. Insp'd," 

Swift's Silver Leaf Lard— America's Standard. Tightly 
tinned in 3, 5, and 10-pound pails. Sold by all dealers. 

Kansas City Omaha St. Louis Swift CS> Company, Chicago St. Joseph St. PauJ Ft. Worth 

[The entire contents of this Magazine are covered by the general copyright, and articles must not be reprinted without special permission. 


Frontispiece. "The Children Crowded Around to See the Dog " 674 

Drawn by Ellen B. Thompson for " The School-Room Dog." 
The School-Room Dog. Story Mary E. FitzGerald 675 

Illustrated by Ellen B. Thompson. 

When Stacie's Class was Graduated. Story Laura Alton Payne 684 


Picture. " Geraldine " 689 

From a portrait by John W. Alexander. 

Mounting Large Animals. Sketch Crittenden Marriott 690 

Illustrated from photographs. 

Pictures. " Vacation Days." Decorations in a Chicago School-Room 695 

From paintings by Miss Hope Dunlap. 

The Art of Doing Without. Verse Minnie Leona Upton 696 

My Traveler. Verse E. L. Sylvester 696 

The Story of King Arthur and his Knights. A Serial Story Howard Pyle 697 

Illustrated by the author. 

About Magnets. Sketch Lawrence B. Fletcher 710 

Illustrated by C. T. Hill. 

Picture. An " Attractive " Experiment 713 

From a painting by B. J. Rosenmeyer. 

Capturing a Great Serpent. Sketch G. R. O'Reilly 714 

Illustrated by W. Taber. 

Picture. An Early Morning Plunge 719 

Drawn by E. Warde Blaisdell. 

How Many ? Verse Justine Ingersoll 719 

" Snap-Shots." Sketch Frederick W. Wendt 72 1 

Illustrated from photographs by the author. 

Something Wrong. Verse E. L. Sylvester 725 


An Interesting Walk. Verse Laura E. Richards 726 

Picture. A Summer Shower * 727 

Drawn by E. Warde Blaisdell. 

A Solemn Warning. Story Margaret Vandegrift 728 

Illustrated by Albertine Randall Whelan. 

Pone-Bread. Verse Grace Macgowan Cooke 732 

Illustrated from photograph. 

The 0' Callahan Picnic Gowns "O'RyanO'Bryan" 733 

Illustrated by George Varian. 

The Fairy Flower. Verse Mary Bradley 734 

Picture. " Which Would You Choose ? " 735 

Drawn by Oliver Herford. 

A Bit of Indoor Play. Sketch Ormsby A. Court 735 

Neighbors. Verse Ethel Parton 737 

Illustrated by Alfred Burton. 

How Remi Redeemed Himself. Story Agnes Fraser Sandham 738 

Illustrated by H. Sandham. 

Like Grandmama. Verse Agnes M. Watson 740 

Illustrated by the author. 

The Smallest Pygmy among Fishes Hugh M. Smith 741 

Illustrated by the author and from photograph. 

The Window on the Stairs Albert Bigelow Paine 742 

Illustrated by G. Ciani. 

A Nonsense Calendar. June Carolyn Wells 743 

Illustrated by M. E. Leonard. 

Nature and Science for Young Folks 7-14 

Home-Life and Happiness — A Bird Tragedy — Are the Names Inappropriate? — The 
Nest-Building of the Barn-Swallows — A Nest in a Novel Place — A Small but Interest- 
ing Snake — Leaf 7 Cutting Bees — Poison-Ivy — Catching Moles Alive. 

The St. Nicholas League- Awards of Prizes for Stories, Poems, 

Drawings, and Photographs 752 


Books and Reading 764 

" My Favorite Place for Reading" — The June Contest — " My Favorite Author." 

The Letter-Box 766 

Our Riddle-Box . . . 767 

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The Reader. 



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fepul&r ^in§ Iroressiorvs 

List of Subjects Taught 

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{"The School-room Dog" page 676.) 


Vol. XXX. 

JUNE, 1903 

No. 8. 


By Mary E. FitzGerald. 

On Friday, Miss Murphy had declared, in a 
voice trembling from her efforts to keep back 
the tears, that she could not put up with 
George White another day. He was simply an 
" instrument of torture," she said. 

The principal looked sympathetic, but said, 
with a sigh, that it was a sad thing to turn a 
ten-year-old boy into the street, and that is 
what would have to be done if she gave him 
up ; no one else could manage him. 

" Well," she replied, " it is a case of turning 
either him or me out. I have tried everything. 
Kindness he laughs at ; severity he sneers at. 
He has done everything that a child bent on 
mischief could do. If I were not the victim, it 
would be rather amusing to see the infinite 
variety of his devices for making mischief in the 
school. Every time he puts his hand into his 
pocket, I shudder for fear it will come out with 
a rat or a mouse in it." 

" But what ever makes you think that ? " 
said the principal, looking amused in spite of 
his sympathy. 

" I was foolish enough to show fear, one day, 
when a rat came sauntering in from the hall. 
Yes, I mounted the chair and did all the things 
that people laugh at women for doing." She 
smiled at the thought, and then, recollecting 
the woes of the day, she sighed. 

" You are tired out ; go home, and on Mon- 
day George shall get his walking-papers. I am 

Copyright, 1903 

by The Century Co 

sorry you did not speak of this before. It is a 
shame to have you annoyed in this way. Good 
night. But cheer up ; your sufferings are over. 
George shall go on Monday. I must see that 
he does." 


On Monday life looked brighter, and the 
teacher confided to her friend that she believed 
she would try George another day. He could n't 
"spring" any surprises on her, because he had 
already done everything that could be done ex- 
cept actually producing the rat. 

George seemed unusually quiet that morn- 
ing. The school-session had not yet begun 
when a most peculiar sound seemed to issue 
from his vicinity. The children looked inter- 
ested, but George appeared so busy that the 
teacher, although suspicious, gave him the bene- 
fit of the doubt and said nothing. 

A few minutes later, the same sound, pro- 
ceeding unmistakably from George's desk, was 
heard again. 

Miss Murphy felt herself turning pale, and her 
heart gave a convulsive leap as she thought, 
"It certainly must be a rat this time ! " 

But George's look of terror as she went down 
the aisle convinced her that this was something 
out of the ordinary. 

Then, at her stern request, George brought 
forth from the bosom of his jacket something 

All rights reserved. 




that looked like a ball of mud — something 
round, with woolly spots here and there; some- 
thing with a little red tongue eagerly licking the 
grimy hand that held it. 

She gazed at it in speechless amazement, 
and then her fondness for anything little and 
helpless caused her to take the tiny animated 
ball tightly to her shoulder, and say in the most 
caressing tones, " What a dear little dog ! " 


" But what did you bring him to school for? 
And how did he come to be so forlorn ? And 
have you given him anything to eat ? " she 
asked, turning to George. 

" I found him in an alley yesterday, and 
took him home; but my aunt put him out this 
morning, and I had nowhere to leave him, and 
I thought he 'd be still, he 's so little," he re- 
plied breathlessly. " I gave him some bread, 
but he would n't eat it, and he does n't know 
how to drink water." 

The children had all crowded round to see 
the dog, and from among the many suggestions 
one was selected. George was given a nickel 
to buy milk, and was told to ask the storekeeper 
to warm it a little. 

He returned in less than half an hour with 
Mr. Puppy cleaned and fed and happy; and 
the little dog spent the remainder of the morn- 
ing in the waste-basket, which had been 
cushioned with a shawl. 

At noon, George and Miss Murphy discussed 
ways and means. He was determined to keep 
the puppy, even if he had to house it some- 
where else than in his own home. 

" If your aunt sees how fond you are of it, 
perhaps she will let you keep it," suggested the 

" If she thought I liked it much, she 'd be 
more likely to get rid of it, the way she did 
with my rabbit ; but she won't get it," he said. 

" Well, we '11 see what can be done. We 
can manage for a day or two, at any rate; bring 
him back this afternoon." 

" He 's the cunningest little thing, is n't he ? " 
said the proud owner. " Would you think any 
one could throw him in the mud, Miss Murphy ? 
I thought maybe you 'd make me take him 

home, but I knew you would n't hurt him, if 
you found me out. You would n't hurt any- 
thing, would you, Miss Murphy ? " And after 
this surprisingly long speech from the boy she 
had formerly been unable to move, he went away 
with his treasure carefully hidden under his coat. 

the puppy finds lodgings. 

On her way downstairs Miss Murphy had 
occasion to call upon the janitor, and suddenly 
it occurred to her that perhaps he might find a 
hole or corner for the puppy in the cellar. At 
first he refused point-blank even to consider 
the subject ; then he rubbed his chin thought- 
fully and said maybe it could be managed. 
" It is too bad to deprive a kid of his pet," 
he said ; and promised that, for a couple of 
days at least, he would put him in the big box 
that held the waste paper. But, alas ! when 
Miss Murphy mentioned the owner's name, the 
kindly old man became furious. 

" Is it George White you are asking me to do 
a favor for ? That imp that hit me in the neck 
with a lump of mud and nearly ruined me best 
coat, to say nothing of giving me such a head- 
ache that I was sick for two days! If ever I 
lay me hands on him — " Here speech failed 

Miss Murphy confessed there were times when 
she wished some one who had the right to chas- 
tise him would exercise that right. " But since he 
takes an interest in this little animal," she said, 
" I am going to try to reach him through his love 
for it, and you are going to help me, Mr. Flood ; 
I know you will. You have good reason to 
be angry, but think what I have endured for 
five hours every blessed day for a year! If I 
can forgive him, surely you can." 

He bridled and set his lips and sputtered, and 
finally said he 'd " think it over." 

But, alack! when George heard what ar- 
rangements had been made, he flatly refused to 
accept any favors from " old Flood." 

" He '11 just kill my dog. He 's only pur- 
tendin', Miss Murphy. I know I threw mud at 
him, and I 'm goin' to hit him with a frozen 
snow-ball when I get a chance," he said vici- 
ously. " Takes boys and bangs 'em up against 
the wall, he does ; but I '11 get even with him. 




I don't want any old janitor to bang my dog 
up against the wall, and that 's what he 'd do if 
he got mad at him once." 

Miss Murphy persevered, and eventually suc- 
ceeded in inducing George to go down to the 
basement with her. Mr. Flood's manner was 
so gay and debonair that she felt a thrill of sus- 
picion, and wondered if he could be so resent- 
ful in his ill humor as to punish the boy through 
his pet. 

To her surprise, he greeted George with 
" Hello, kid ! Got any mud to throw ? That 


was a nice trick to play on an old man who 
never did anythin' to you." 

" You did, too," quickly replied George. 
" You bumped me up against the side of the 
school-house for nothin'." 

Mr. Flood took him by the shoulders. 
" Well, maybe I did. I usually catch the one 
that 's handiest, and I suppose it was your luck 
to be in the way ; but did you ever think, me 
boy, how many times you did do somethin' and 
did n't get bumped ? " 

This was evidently a new view of the situa- 
tion, and a smile crept into the eyes of the old 
man, and then to the lips, and, wonderful to see! 
George was laughing. He wriggled himself 

loose with an " Ah-h-h, go on " ; and then the 
janitor and the boy fell to examining the dog 
in the chummiest way imaginable. The little 
mouth was opened for inspection, the ears 
were felt, and various other points carefully 
gone over, much to Miss Murphy's amusement ; 
and Mr. Flood's opinion, given after much 
rubbing of his chin, was that it was " a mongrel 
— a nice little feller, though." 

He said his " ol' woman " would give him a 
bottle of milk to bring over, and George could 
come down early and feed Mr. Puppy. 

"Now," said Miss Murphy, "you must be 
sure to wait until George comes, no matter how 
hungry the doggie is. My mother does n't 
like any of us even to feed her cat. And," 
she went on, " George can do little chores for 
you to help pay his pet's board." 


Miss Murphy received so many petitions to 
see the doggie that she made up her mind she 
would keep the little creature in the room. A 
rug was brought and put in a warm corner ; a 
little staple was driven into the base-board, and 
to this he was chained. Always at recess he 
was to be taken down for a run ; and so he be- 
came an honorary member, for the time being, 
of Room Five. 

When the principal learned of the arrival of 
the puppy he looked very dubious at first, and 
came into Miss Murphy's room with an expres- 
sion that boded ill for the hopes of the scholars ; 
but, as if he knew he was on trial, puppy sat up 
straight on his rug to his extreme height of ten 
inches, looked the principal in the face with his 
head on one side, as if weighing him in the 
balance, and suddenly gave a convulsive little 
leap of joy and began to lick the hand held 
out to pet him. The puppy had won. 

" If the superintendent has no objections, he 
may remain for the present," said the principal. 

Before the sessions began, a throng sur- 
rounded the dog, and, until Miss Murphy posi- 
tively forbade it, he would have suffered from 
too bountiful and rich a diet at the hands of the 
generous pupils. 

His education began at once. This always 
took place at recess-time, for Miss Murphy's 




room was noted for its good order, and during 
session she allowed nothing to interfere with 
the regular work. But at recess the once quiet, 
studious children immediately became a very- 
jolly lot of teachers themselves, with the amus- 
ing novelty of a dog for a scholar. 

Miss Murphy would look on at it all and 
smilingly say : " Well, when that sullen Charlie 
Nelson took doggie up the other day, and pet- 
ted him as gently as even little Margaret does, 
and when I saw Lawrence cuff a boy who was 
stoning a cat, I cheered up." 

At first every movement of the puppy was 
watched with extreme interest — often, I fear, 
with the result of lessons none too well learned ; 
but one day, when it seemed impossible to 
arouse any interest in arithmetic, Miss Murphy 
took the little dog into the cloak-room, where, 
in spite of his piteous little whines and the 
miserable face of George, she let him stay. 
Not one word was said, but the next day, when 
she made the slightest move in his direction, 
there was such a sudden show of studiousness 
that she thought her lesson had been taken 
to heart. 

George, who had become a reigning favorite 
in the room, was picking up wonderfully in his 
lessons, but physically he looked wretched. 
Mr. Flood and he got on very well together, 
and the janitor had established him in a fairly 
profitable paper route and secured him several 

One day Mr. Flood came up smiling and in 
evident possession of a great joke. " Miss Mur- 
phy," he said, " have you never noticed that 
the pup has no name ? He 's always called 
' No. 5's dog,' or ' our dog,' or ' George's dog,' 
or ' the little puppy.' 

" I have talked to George about it, but all he 
would say is, ' He has a name.' ' But what 's 
the good of a name,' said I, ' if no one knows 
it ? ' But he 's stubborn about some things, so 
I let him alone. This morning he was combing 
out the doggie's coat, and talking to it and whis- 
pering and loving it, — and indeed, miss, it would 
do your heart good to see them together, — when 
he said : ' Now, " Murphy," you must sit up and 
let me get the tangles out of your frizzes, or else 
you won't be a nice little doggie.' Then I walked 
in on him, and I thought I would have died. 

You never saw anything so funny as the look 
on his face. 

" ' Sonny,' I said, ' it is n't becoming to call 
a dog after Miss Murphy ; the lady might not 
like it.'" 

The lady in question looked perfectly con- 
founded, and then, the idea of it pleasing her 
fancy, she laughed. 

" Well," she replied, " I have never suffered 
from an excess of dignity; but what little I 
have will certainly be lost if that little piece of 
impudence is called ' Murphy ' ; but what did 
George say?" 

" He said he called the dog after you because 
he liked you better than anybody, but if I 
thought you would n't like it, he 'd change it. 
I thought I 'd get your opinion." 

" Well, what do you think ? " 

" It will be confusing once in a while ; but 
what if it is ? You like a joke yourself and 
won't mind." 

Miss Murphy thought it over, then she said : 
" It 's a queer notion, but, after all, it 's an hon- 
est one, and he seems set upon it. I think the 
children would like it, too." So she decided to 
let George keep the name for the present. 

Next day she announced to the children the 
honor which George had bestowed upon her, 
and their looks of surprise and delight showed 
that they indorsed the boy's choice. And thus 
" Murphy " was christened. 


" Did you know, Miss Murphy, that poor 
George has n't any place to live ? " whispered 
one of the scholars to the teacher one day. 

" No place to live ! " said Miss Murphy, 
in astonishment. " Why, where is his aunt ? " 

" She moved two or three weeks ago, and 
George would n't go with her. Mama has 
tried to get him to come and sleep at our house 
these cold nights, but he won't. He 's such a 
funny boy : he gets mad if you offer him a 
thing. There are eight of us children, but my 
mama says there 's always room for one more ; 
but really we can't get him in. She told me to 
tell you, because she thought you might man- 
age some way." 

Miss Murphy went down to see Mr. Flood, 




who was as shocked as she at the state of 

" But I can do nothing, miss. I 'd take him 
home, but my wife does n't like boys or dogs; 
but something must be done." 

" I '11 take him home to-night," said Miss 
Murphy, " and perhaps, as ' the night brings 

I counsel,' I may be able to suggest something 
to-morrow. Can he be of any use to you in the 
work ? " 
" Oh, yes ; he 's neat and energetic about 
everything he does." 
" Could you pay him anything ? " 
" I might give him a suit of clothes, and after 
that pay him a little each week. It would make 
him more independent-like." 

George objected very much to going home 
with his teacher when she asked him, but when 
she said, " Why, George, my big brother is just 
wild to see 'Murphy' perform, and will be so 
disappointed," he yielded. 

George was now no stranger to Mrs. Mur- 
phy, for every Saturday he appeared, beat the 
rugs, and gave the dog a bath. Nothing could 
persuade him, however, to take a cent for his 
work ; he said his dinner was all it was worth. 
On every hand the teacher had to fight an in- 
dependence so fierce that it frightened her. 

" Murphy " was put through his paces, and 
showed some accomplishments that even the 
teacher had not known he possessed. When 
George took the broom and pretended to 
sweep, " Murphy " took in his teeth a towel con- 
veniently dropped on the floor, and began to 
dust in the most businesslike and thorough way. 
The family said they had never had a pleasanter 
evening, and although the house was small, the 
family large, and the mother a semi-invalid, still 
George was pressed to come again. They had 
been warned to ask him no questions. 

The next day a note was written to the 
mother of eight, and, as school was about to 
close, the teacher said, " George, will you do 
Mrs. McCarthy a favor? She wants you to 
take ' Murphy ' over to her house, — she has 
heard so much about him, — and she says if it 
is very late when he gets through his tricks you 
had better plan to stay all night." So one more 
night's supper and lodging were secured for him. 
The fashion spread, and invitations poured in 

until it seemed as if the whole school term might 
be provided for. The children proved a blessing 
to the boy. The good mothers saw that the little 
clothes were mended, and then Mr. Flood took 
him down-town and bought a complete outfit, part 
of which had been paid for by the night-work. 

" Murphy " by this time had learned many 
tricks ; he would shake hands, spar, pretend to 
read a book, and he invariably dusted the table 
before lying down. Occasionally he dusted the 
teacher's table, too ; but one sad day, alas ! he 
knocked over her ink and a vase of flowers, 
so she put him in the cloak-room, where at in- 
tervals he tapped for admission, but in vain. 

Her table received no more dustings. Her 
ink happened to be on his table one day, and, 
with his duster in his mouth, he sat looking up 
at it with the most mournful expression until a 
little girl removed it. 

He was now being thoroughly trained for 
" attention," and a comical sight he was with 
one paw over his eye, on his nose — in fact, any 
place except where his trainer wanted him to 
put it. They never thought when poor " Mur- 
phy " was making such a ridiculous object of 
himself, that this trick would prove his salvation. 
After a while the children of the whole school 
would gather around to see " Murphy " at " at- 
tention " every time he saw the big, good- 
natured policeman in the yard. 


" Miss Murphy, do you believe in miracles ? " 
said Mr. Flood. 

" Yes," promptly responded Miss Murphy, " I 
do. Why?" 

" Well, one has come to pass. When I went 
home yesterday, who should be reading to 
my wife but George, and she 's declared many 
a time she 'd trounce him if she ever caught 
him : she can't forget that mud he threw at 
me. I was beginning to think I had the boy 
so much on my mind that it was only a ghost I 
saw; but just then ' Murphy' fell off the chair 
he was sitting on over into the coal-scuttle, and 
I heard the noise and knew I was awake. To 
say I was surprised is to put it mildly ; but I 
acted as if it was the most ordinary thing in 
the world, and then I heard the news. 




" It appears that my wife had turned her 
ankle, and wanted some one to go for the doc- 
tor. The lad was the first one who passed, and 
she tapped on the window for him. When he 
came back from the doctor's, without saying 
anything to her, he 
went into the kitchen 
and began to clear up. 
She could see it all re- 
flected in the looking- 
glass. The fire had 
gone out, and he got 
the kindling; and 'Mur- 
phy,' who must always 
have a finger in every 
pie, brought him a 
small bit of the kind- 
ling, sometimes stand- 
ing on his hind legs, 
sometimes dancing and 
going through so many 
antics that my wife for- 
got her ankle. But 
when George began to 
sweep and the dog to 
dust, that beat any- 
thing she ever saw, and 
she laughed so loud 
that I believe it helped 
her to get well. She 
thinks a lot of the sto- 
ries in the ' Record,' 
and was pining to know 
how things were turn- 
ing out with the hero- 
ine in one of the con- 
tinued stories, so she 
had George read to 
her ; and that settled 

the matter : the boy and the dog are to be quar- 
tered with us. I raised a lot of objections, and 
then I was told I was an unfeeling wretch, be- 
cause she had always wanted a boy to save her 
steps, and the dog would be company for her. 
Now what do you think of that ? Would you 
have believed it possible that he could have 
won her over like that ? " 

" I could n't be happier if some one had left 
me a fortune," said Miss Murphy, at home that 
night, and every one rejoiced with her. 



The children were getting ready for gymnastic 
class when the tall, fine-looking, genial super- 
intendent, accompanied by a strange gentleman, 
came in. He greeted 
the children courteous- 
ly, and then, glancing 
toward " Murphy's " 
table, seemed utterly 
confounded by what 
he saw. 

He had not visited 
the room since the ad- 
vent of the new pupil, 
and the principal had 
forgotten to mention 
the puppy to him, so 
there certainly was 
good reason for his 

" Murphy," who 
dearly loved visitors, 
sat up with the most 
interested expression, 
and, his outstretched 
paw being ignored, had 
laboriously got his paw 
to his eye and sat at 
"attention." Mr. Leon- 
ard walked over, exam- 
ined the dog critically, 
and graciously shook 
the proffered paw ; but 
he said no word, and 
no indication of what 
he felt could be guessed. 
H „ The march began. 

Down from the table 
leaped " Murphy " and caught in his mouth his 
own especial wand, made just long enough to 
pass easily between the desks. He had been 
trained to keep from knocking the seats, and 
usually his whole attention was devoted to 
keeping the wand straight. 

Drawing was next on the program. The 
dog had been taught to pass pencils, but, of 
course, was allowed to do this only on special 
occasions. A basket was hung around his neck, 
and he would go demurely down the aisle, as 



sober as a deacon with a collection-plate ; but 
to-day he stopped at the desk of every one of 
his particular friends, and succeeded before 
long in spilling the pencils on the floor. His 
short barks and frantic efforts to get them back 
into the basket overcame even the teach- 
er's annoyance, and she laughed, the visi- 
tors joining in heartily. 

"Now, 'Murphy,'" she said, "you 've 
certainly distinguished yourself this 
afternoon, so you just march right 
into the cloak-room; but before 
you go you may bring me a 
ruler." And when he crawled 
to her with it in his mouth. 
Miss Murphy gave him two 
slaps — gentle ones, it must 
be admitted — across the 
woolly little back ; after that, 
with his head down and tail 
between his legs, he went 
into solitary confinement. 

When the teacher was 
asked to stop a few min- 
utes in the principal's of- '. 
fice, it did n't require the 
gift of prophecy to know 
what the trouble was. The 
visitor who was there asked 
the particulars of " Mur- 
phy's " installation, and then 
the teacher earnestly assured 
him that the mischief of that 
afternoon was entirely out of the 
ordinary, and that usually the dog 
was a real help instead of a hindrance, 
that he had a more powerful influence 
on the children in the room than any 
one would have an idea of, and that he 
had made a good, earnest boy out of a little 
demon of mischief. 

" Your room," the visitor said, " made me think 
of a parent with an only child on exhibition. 
Just think of it — fifty guardians for one little dog ! 
How could he behave any better ? The kind- 
liness in your room is worth any amount of 
good order, although I 'm sure the good 
order is there, too. Now, I have a couple of 
little girls who are to have a birthday-party next 
week. My sister is at her wits' end to know 

what to do to entertain the guests. Suppose 
you have that little fellow bring ' Murphy ' and 



spend the afternoon. I '11 give him three dol- 
lars for it with pleasure." 

" Who is that gentleman ? " she said to the 
principal, after the visitor had gone. 

" It is the great Dr. B , who is making a 

study of school-room conditions. He was very 




much interested in your experiment. He is 
coming to see you again soon." 

Miss Murphy did not feel so sure of the de- 
light of the principal, but when he came next 
time he walked up the first thing and shook 
hands with " Murphy." He said his little girl 
demanded every night the story of the dog who 
ran around the room with a stick in his mouth, 
and shook hands with papa and barked at the 
policeman, and he wanted to get some new 

The entertainment at Dr. B 's proved a 

great success, and for several Saturday after- 
noons thereafter George and his dog were 
engaged by some of the families in the neigh- 
borhood. The money he thus made was put in 
the bank, making what Mr. Flood called " a 
rainy-day collection," and George healthy, 
happy, busy, and " getting rich " was a very dif- 
ferent boy from the George frowsy, mischiev- 
ous, ragged, of four months ago. 


As Miss Murphy stepped from the car one 
Monday she was met by half the pupils of her 
room. At sight of her, tears and lamentations 
broke forth, and it took the bewildered teacher 
some time to learn that her namesake had been 

" It was that beautiful collar you gave him ! " 
reproachfully cried one little girl; and that 
seemed to be the universal opinion, and in some 
way the teacher felt herself responsible. 

She had had six small foreign coins each en- 
graved with a letter, the whole forming the 
word " Murphy." The coins were fastened on 
a leather band, and a Roman coin was used to 
balance the license-tag. The children thought 
it the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. 
At first " Murphy" himself thoroughly detested 
the whole arrangement; when it was put on, he 
walked with the greatest dignity into the cloak- 
room, and stayed there the rest of the session. 
But being very susceptible to kind words and 
caresses, and receiving them in such abundance, 
he became as vain as a peacock when he was 
" dressed up," and insisted upon making a tour 
of the rooms every time he had his collar on. 

No doubt the children, in talking of it, had 

greatly exaggerated its value, and some one had 
been tempted; at any rate, " Murphy " had dis- 
appeared, and there was sorrow in the school- 

The teacher's eyes were red, the little girls 
were sad all day, and the boys at the whispering 
recess spoke as if some one were dead. 

One little optimist said : " Oh, we '11 get him 
back ; you just see if we don't ! All our fathers 
and mothers will tell about him; and the school- 
yard policeman will tell all the other policemen, 
and I 'm just sure we will get him again." 

This hopeful little soul, who always reminded 
his teacher of Tommy Traddles, seemed to have 
a cheerful influence, and toward the end of the 
day there seemed to be no doubt whatever but 
that " Murphy " would be found. Plans were 
even made for decorating his table ; but the 
days passed, and still no sign of the lost pet. 

George was wandering the streets, looking 
like a ghost. Mr. Flood hired a janitor for a 
few days, and threw himself heart and soul into 
the search. Mr. Leonard, the principal, came 
over to condole with Room Five, and said he 
had spoken of the dog in every room he visited, 
and the children were scouring the streets. 

At the end of the month all hope, however, 
had died out, and it seemed a certainty that the 
dog was not in the city. 

But one day a messenger boy came in, and 
the letter he brought said : 

Send owner of " Murphy " to Madison and State 
streets, northeast corner. 

All the children wanted to go, of course ; but, 
as George was the only recognized owner, it 
was he who went. 

There was a shout as George came up the 
street carrying something in his arms, and when 
he came into the room, such a rush and 
scramble ; but, alas ! how quickly the joy gave 
way to tears ! " Murphy " was not the " Murphy " 
of a month before. Muddy, thin, frightened, 
sick, he shrank as if in terror of his former play- 
mates. When the teacher took him in her 
arms, he tried to put his paws around her neck, 
but was too weak to do it. 

With tears George told how he had been 
found. The big policeman at one of the busiest 
corners of the city had seen standing upright 



68 3 

against a building a muddy, forlorn dog, evi- 
dently trying to perform some trick. He top- 
pled over two or three times, and then for 
one second sat at "attention." The police- 
man suddenly remembered orders from police 
headquarters regarding a curly brown dog an- 
swering to the name of " Murphy." When 
he saw the dog he called, " Is this ' Mur- 
phy ' ? " The little creature looked up so quickly 
that the officer felt sure it was the missing pet 
of the school-room. 

He sent word to headquarters, and gave the 
dog into the keeping of the Italian boy who kept 
a news-stand near by. The boy tried to feed 
him, but he would n't take a thing, and his new 
keeper feared the dog would n't live through 
the night. 

Poor George was frightened at such a prospect, 
but Tommy Traddles came to the front again 
and suggested " warm milk, like that he had 
when he was a little puppy," and this, being 
at once administered, seemed to revive him. 

In two weeks he was back at his table ; but, 
somehow, he did n't seem the same for a long 
time. He who had graciously held out a paw 
to every one who came in, now cowered at 

sight of a stranger, and once, when some repair- 
ing was in progress, he could not be prevailed 
upon to lie down anywhere but on the platform 
at the side of the teacher's desk until the men 
had gone. Every one wondered what had de- 
stroyed " Murphy's " confidence in the human 
race and what had been his experiences, and 
the children amused themselves writing com- 
positions about his adventures ; but one and all 
agreed he had been badly treated, and that it 
was a " mean shame " to hurt any one's dog, 
and as long as they lived they would be good 
to " dumb animals who could n't tell where 
they lived or anything." 

The collar, unfortunately, was never re- 

So, having provided George with a home, 
with friends, and with a bank-account ; having 
given Miss Murphypeace of mind; havingtaught 
fifty children the value of kindness to dumb 
animals, and provided entertainment for the 
whole class, not to mention many friends outside, 
" Murphy " can now be left trotting around the 
school-room, only happy when he is useful, even 
if in his well-meant endeavors in this line he 
occasionally hinders more than he helps. 


By Laura Alton Payne. 

Dr. Barton answered the anxious eyes turned 
toward him as he emerged from the sick-room. 
Stacie's lips trembled so that she could not frame 
the words. 

" Perfect freedom from work and worry, and 
constant and tender care for the next three or 
four years, may prevent your mother from be- 
coming a hopeless invalid for the rest of her life, 
my dear." 

"Oh, doctor! " 

" There, there, my dear ! don't you begin to 
worry. AVorry kills more than disease and 
medicine and unskilful doctors combined. We 
two will bring her through all right. You may 
go in to see her now, if you will only appear 
natural. Don't stay too long or talk too much, 
but let her sleep ; rest is her first great need." 

And kind-hearted Dr. Barton, who had known 

Stacie all her life, patted soothingly her pretty 
brown head, then took his departure without 
guessing all of the humble tragedy he had left 
behind him. 

Stacie's first thought was for her mother — 
the delicate little mother who had so bravely 
borne the burden since her husband's death 
three years previous. Full of ambition for her 
two children, Stacie, now fifteen, and Keith, a 
year older, Mrs. Hafnilton had cheerfully as- 
sumed the whole responsibility of household 
cares and financial perplexities. She had hoped 
to keep both in school until they were gradu- 
ated; but work and worry, combined with a 
severe attack of the grippe, proved too much 
for her frail constitution, and it succumbed to 
the strain. 

Though Stacie's first thought was for her 


68 5 

mother, her next was for her school. In her 
overwhelming anxiety she had devoted herself 
so absorbingly to the sick-room that she had 
not even thought of the coming school term 
till Mary Bruce came in one day. 

" Whom do you intend to get to stay with 
your mother when school begins ? " Mary in- 

Stacie looked at her blankly a moment; 
then, as the inevitable dawned upon her, she 
turned pale. " School ! " she faltered. "I — I 
hadn't even thought of school, I've been so 
worried about mama. My school-days are over, 
I suppose." 

" Oh, Stacie ! can't you — " 

Stacie anticipated the question. " No, I 
can't," she said bravely. " We simply cannot 
afford it. Even if we could, I would n't leave 
mama. Dr. Barton says she must have con- 
stant care, and no one understands her as I do." 

" But I thought it was your ambition to be a 

" So it is — was, rather. But," cheerfully, " if 
I can't be a teacher, I can be a nurse. Dr. Bar- 
ton says I am a natural-born nurse, and mama 
agrees with him." 

In spite of all the bravery she showed before 
Mary, Stacie's disappointment was hard to bear. 
She bore herself cheerfully in the presence of her 
mother and others, but poured her woes into 
Keith's sympathetic ear. Together they consid- 
ered the situation, pro and con. Hiring help was 
out of the question. Their limited income had re- 
quired their mother to exercise strict economy. 
Of course Stacie's school expenses would cease ; 
but the expenses of the sick-room would more 
than counterbalance that. As they talked their 
troubles magnified. 

" Perhaps I 'd better stop school, too," sug- 
gested Keith, reluctantly, "and go to work." 

" No, no ! " Stacie objected quickly. " At 
least, not just at present — not till it 's absolutely 
necessary. I am strong, and I am rapidly learn- 
ing to do things. If I 'd not been so blindly 
selfish I 'd have learned long ago ; then, per- 
haps, mama would n't have broken down. 
You can help evenings, Keith. Expenses will 
lessen after a while, Dr. Barton says. Besides, I 
intend to become a famous economist." 

" Well, it 's awfully good of you, Stacie, to let 

me go on, and I appreciate it, I can tell you. 
If you can't go on with me, you shall go on 
after I have finished — that I '11 promise you." 

So the vexed question was settled — or sup- 
posed to be. The first day of school was an- 
other trial to Stacie. One after another of her 
classmates passed, some with a gay greeting, 
some pausing a moment to condole with her. 
She finally grew so tearful under this sympathy 
that she retreated into privacy, and remained 
there the rest of the day. She had anticipated 
so much from her first year in the high school ! 

However, Stacie bore an unclouded face into 
the sick-room. This was the one thing she in- 
sisted upon : no gloomy brows must enter that 
sanctified place, no matter how she and Keith 

But hope is always lurking around dark 
places, ready to brighten them at the merest 
hint of an opportunity. A happy solution of 
the difficulty came to Stacie one evening to- 
ward the close of the first week of school. After 
leaving her mother comfortable for the night, 
she sat down by Keith, who was preparing his 
lessons for the next day, and began to examine 
his new books. 

" Latin, algebra, physics, and general his- 
tory," she enumerated, caressingly fingering one 
after another of the tempting pack. " Oh, 
dear ! and I 've so longed to study Latin ! Is 
it very hard to understand, Keith ? " 

"Not very. Here, let me show you a little 
about our lesson for to-day." And Keith glibly 
began, " Regina coronam laudat " ("The 
queen praises the crown "), translated the whole 
lesson, then carefully explained the pronuncia- 
tion, the cases and case-endings, the verb-end- 
ings, the vocabulary, and the synthesis. 

" How easy ! " cried Stacie, eagerly, after fol- 
lowing him attentively, drinking in his explana- 
tions as a thirsty man drinks water, her eyes 
brightening with hope. " Why, I can do that 
easily now ! " And she proved it by going 
through the whole lesson with scarcely a blunder. 
" Oh, Keith ! why can't I study at night what 
you do at school during the day ? " Stacie was 
pale witli excitement. 

" All right, old girl ! I '11 help you ! " Keith 
returned encouragingly. 

Stacie clapped her hands at a sudden in- 




spiration. " I will ! I will ! " she cried excitedly. 
" And I '11 study all the other branches, too ! 
Mama does not need me much after her bed- 
time, except on her bad nights; so I '11 have 
the whole evening for study. And" — growing 
still more excited as the idea expanded — "I can 
manage my work so that I can find time during 
the day — that is, on most days. Oh, Keith, 
why can't I — " 

'• Why, you can ! " interrupted Keith, infected 
with Stacie's enthusiasm. "It 's a capital idea! 
Why did n't we think of it sooner ? And 
you can take the exams with me, too — I '11 
bring the questions home. It will be fun to see 
how you stand them, even if they don't count." 

So it began. Mrs. Hamilton, who had been 
worrying a good deal in secret over Stacie's 
prospects, was delighted with the plan. " 1 
think I can help a little, though it is years since 
I 've looked into those studies," she said. 

Between her mother and Keith, Stacie pro- 
gressed famously. She soon left Keith behind 
in Latin and general history, and ran him a 
close race in physics and algebra. With no dis- 
tractions of a bustling school-room, every mo- 
ment devoted to study counted. She found her 
mother's assistance on her " good " days inval- 
uable. Best of all, the new interest created 
proved a tonic to Mrs. Hamilton, partly be- 
cause it relieved her mind as to Stacie's 
prospects, partly because the work was con- 
genial and relieved the tedium of the sick-room. 

Greedy of time for her precious studies, 
Stacie reduced her housework to system in the 
minutest detail. And if she chose to murmur 
theorems and conjugations and declensions in 
preference to singing while preparing meals, 
washing dishes, sweeping, and dusting, there 
was no one to laugh at her choice. Had there 
been, she would not have cared. 

Stacie also learned to economize expenses in 
order to supply herself with the necessary 
material for her work. Keith approved of but, 
boylike, laughed at her various economical de- 
vices. One evening his curiosity was aroused 
upon discovering a neat pile of oblong sheets 
of wrapping-paper on the table between their 
respective books. 

" What are these for ? " he inquired. 

" Scribble-paper," was the reply. " I use so 

many tablets. This costs nothing, and I like it 
better than cheap tablet paper. Try one." 

Keith did so, and voted it a success. " I '11 
use it, too, hereafter, O Professor of Economics," 
he said with a laugh. " But hurry up, sis ; I 've 
brought you the examination questions in Latin. 
Had the test unexpectedly this afternoon. I 
told Miss Winslow all about you, and she 
seemed very much interested. She says that 
she will correct your manuscript along with the 
others ; also your history ; and that she will 
speak to Miss Williston about your other two 

" How very kind of her ! " cried Stacie. 
" Please thank her for me. And thank you, too, 
Keith. But give me the questions, and please 
do not speak another word for the next hour at 
least. I must get this translation." 

Friday evening Keith came in from school 
with a broad and quizzical grin. 

" See here, Stacie," he exclaimed with an 
injured air, as he brandished a folded paper, 
" do you call this fair ? Here I 've attended 
school faithfully day after day, meekly obeyed 
every rule, studied hard, and tried my best 
to keep in the good graces of my teachers, 
only to be rewarded now by their giving you 
a higher standing than I in everything but 
physics. I call it base ingratitude. Physics ! 
In the words of the immortal William, ' Throw 
physics to the dogs.' It 's algebra I aspire to, 
and by divine right of all educational theories I 
ought to stand higher than you. What business 
has a girl to excel in mathematics, I 'd like to 
know ? It puts a popular time-honored theory 
to blush, and one superior male mind to shame. 
Please show more consideration for the fitness 
of things after this by keeping within the estab- 
lished sphere for womankind. Don't go above 
the eighties in mathematics, anyway. If you do, 
missy, it will serve you right should I refuse to 
bring the questions home. You — " 

" Oh, you ridiculous boy ! Do hush and give 
me my grades. You 're welcome to excel in 
your old minus-and-plus — hope you will next 
time. It 's Latin I aspire to." 

Stacie faithfully accompanied Keith through 
the long three-year course, leading him in some 
studies, following in others, but never very far 
off. Keith helped her over many an obstacle 




made easy for him in the school-room, only 
to see her outstrip him to the next goal. How- 
ever, Stacie proved herself able to return favor 
for favor. If Keith smoothed the way to her 
understanding of the intricacies of chemistry 
and mechanics that he delighted in and she 
found difficult, Stacie's assistance banished 
some of the terrors of Latin conjugations, 
German genders, and rhetorical figures that 
were Keith's bugbears and her delight. In 
spite of Keith's efforts, figures and symbols, lines 
and angles continued as easy for Stacie as for 
himself, first one, then the other, excelling 
slightly in the tests. 

The habit of home study became so fixed 
with Stacie that she found it as easy to study 
one time as another, while Keith, who worked in 
the public library on Saturdays during the school 
term and all through vacation, was often too 
tired to study at night. Stacie's vacation study 
partly compensated for her losses in other ways. 
Then, too, Professor Morris (the superintendent 
of the schools) and the various teachers became 
deeply interested in her struggle for an educa- 
tion; they granted her the privileges of the school 
library, made helpful suggestions as to her work, 
and graded her papers regularly. 

By the end of the second year Mrs. Hamilton's 
health had improved so much she could perform 
some of the lighter household tasks. This gave 
Stacie more time to devote to her studies. She 
had developed such a power of concentration 
and independence that she found the final work 
comparatively easy — even to writing an essay, 
which she worked over as faithfully as though 
she was still in school. 

" I want it all," she said to her mother and 
Keith. " No matter if I cannot graduate, I 
shall have the substance, and shall be prepared 
to teach just as soon as mama is strong enough 
for me to leave her — the goal toward which I 
have been working for the last three years. You 
must teach, too, Keith, — you have learned 
methods in helping me, — then attend spring 
terms and summer schools till you get a college 
education. That is my ambition." 

One day, about a month before the close of 
the term, Keith came in with a bundle, which 
he dropped into Stacie"s lap as he passed her. 
She looked up questioningly. 

" O thou of little curiosity, why don't you 
undo it ? Behold ! " Keith snapped the cord 
and held the sheer white folds up to view. 


" It 's a gown for you to wear at the com- 
mencement, old girl — and my tribute to pluck. 
You shall taste the last bitter drop of the woes 
of school life — selecting a style for the afore- 
said gown. I 've left it for you to select the 
thingumbobs for it." 

" Oh, thank you, Keith ! But the gown is 
not the ' last bitter drop ' ; you forget the di- 
ploma — the one ungettable thing." 

" Pooh ! what 's in a diploma ? A paper by 
any other name would look as sweet ! " 

" No, it would n't," laughed Stacie, — " not to 
me. I never dreamed of getting one for the 
occasion. But how can I thank you, you dear 
boy, for this lovely gown ? " 

" By wearing it to the exercises and outshin- 
ing all the other fellows' sisters." 

" I '11 do my best," was the laughing reply. 

Stacie was a vision of girlish loveliness as 
Keith escorted her and their mother to the seats 
reserved for them in the large auditorium. 

After several orations had been delivered with 
more or less trepidation and success, — Keith's 
among them, — Professor Morris advanced to 
the front of the stage. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I want to 
tell you a story." Then, to Stacie's amazement 
and confusion, he went on to relate the story of 
her struggle. Her cheeks grew hot beneath the 
gaze of so many curious eyes, and she wished 
that Professor Morris would not be quite so 
complimentary. She had only done her duty 
to herself and mother. Keith's eyes twinkled 
as she glanced at him. She knew then why 
Professor Morris was telling the story. 

" And now," Professor Morris was saying in 
conclusion, " I have the pleasure of announcing 
to you that the board has unanimously voted to 
ask Miss Hamilton to come upon the platform 
with her old class during their graduating exer- 
cises. This announcement, I will say, will doubt- 
less be as much a surprise to Miss Hamilton as to 
you, for we have taken the liberty of keeping from 
her the decision of the board until this moment. 

" When once we have entered upon a course 
of deception, how easy it is to pass from one 



stage to the next ! Furthermore, at the re- 
quest of the class, I have been instructed by the 
board to ask Miss Hamilton to read the essay 
which she handed to the instructor in English a 
week ago for criticism. I hesitate to disclose the 
ruses I had to resort to in order to obtain the 
essay. Suffice it to say that I now have the man- 
uscript in my hand, and I will ask Miss Hamil- 
ton to give us the pleasure of hearing her read 
it, with humble apologies for not having given a 
more timely notice." 

Amid wild applause, Stacie went forward as 
in a dream, and, taking from Professor Morris's 
hand the familiar manuscript over which she had 
worked so hard for weeks, she began to read 
mechanically. But her habit of thoroughness 
and self-reliance saved the day ; soon regaining 
her composure, she went through to a trium- 
phant finish. 

"You did it in fine style, Sis," whispered 
Keith — " even to a graceful retreat. / felt all 
hands and feet." 

" Thank goodness, that 's the last! " breathed 

Keith looked at her quizzically. " Felt that 
way myself," he murmured cheerfully. " Feared 
you would collapse under the shock — I almost 
did. Sly old Prof. ! that 's why he was so in- 
terested in your essay last week ! and I never 
once suspected what he was up to." 

The last orator bowed and sat down with a 
sigh of relief audible to those near him, and the 
cloud of anxious responsibility that hovered 
over the semicircle began to lift. There was at 
least a bow and a " Thank you " still to go 

through with when the diplomas were dis- 
tributed, but would Mohammed come to the 
mountain, or must the mountain go to Mo- 
hammed ? This was the question that vexed 
their souls during the interval that followed. 
It soon became apparent that Mohammed chose 
to seek the mountain, and the last vestige of 
the cloud dissipated. Professor Morris made 
the customarypresentation speech as he passed 
from graduate to graduate. 

Stacie began to wish herself anywhere else 
than where she was as Professor Morris ad- 
vanced. She would feel so mortified when, 
after presenting Keith's, he would turn away. 
If only she were not the last in the row ! She 
knew she would look embarrassed, and — yes, 
she was terribly afraid the tears would come ; 
her throat was tightening now. Oh, dear ! 

The ordeal had come. But, instead of turn- 
ing away, Professor Morris paused directly in 
front of her. 

" And now, Miss Hamilton," he was saying, 
" allow me to present you with a testimonial of 
our appreciation of by no means the least deserv- 
ing graduate in the class. The granting of this 
diploma, though somewhat irregular, has the 
hearty approval of all the teachers and graduates, 
and of even the august school board itself, and it 
gives me great pleasure to carry out their will." 

Stacie found herself standing, though she was 
conscious of no effort in rising, and staring at a 
small white roll in her hand, while the audience, 
equally surprised, added its approval of the un- 
expected final act in the day's drama by a 
rousing round of applause. 


Vol. XXX.— 87. 


By Crittenden Marriott. 

At one time or another in his life, every boy 
who is a boy has been fired with a desire to 
" stuff" an animal of some sort — either a favor- 
ite dog which has met with an untimely fate, or 
an unfortunate cat, or some wild animal which 
has fallen into his hands. As a rule, however, 

how much skill is needed to properly mount 
an animal, large or small, and how thorough a 
knowledge of its anatomy is required to make 
it look lifelike. 

Nowadays all small animals are modeled in 
plaster of Paris almost as if they were intended 


something has gone wrong with the operation : 
either the skin has been ruined in removing it ; 
or it has been spoiled by insects after it was re- 
moved; or, if both of these difficulties were 
gotten over successfully, the result has looked 
so awkward and shapeless that it has soon been 
thrown away. 

for statuettes, and then have the skin drawn 
over them carefully ; while the frames of large 
animals are constructed of wood, covered with 
laths, over which quantities of excelsior are fas- 
tened, or with wire netting, over which plaster is 
carefully molded to fit the animal. 

The accompanying photographs show the 

This is not surprising when it is understood stages in the process of mounting a walrus at 







the National Museum in Washington, as well 
as views of an elephant and a buffalo in " un- 
dress " — before the prepared skin has been 
placed upon them. They show what a hollow- 

Fig. 2 shows the skin stretched over the 
frame and three men at work stuffing in excel- 
sior through apertures cut in the skin for this 
purpose. As each portion is finished it is tacked 


mockery a mounted animal usually is, however 
lifelike it may look. 

Fig. 1 shows the framework for the animal. 
All of it is of wood or wire, except the bony 
skull-piece carrying the tusks and a small por- 
tion of the skull itself; notice the flippers, the 
bulging chest which gives such a haughty ap- 
pearance to the finished animal, and the apology 
for a tail bent around forward. 

in place by long pin-like nails. This work is 
continued until every part of the skin is filled 
out to exactly the right degree. 

Fig. 3 shows the third step in the process — 
the drying out. While the skins are, of course, 
thoroughly cured and preserved, they are never- 
theless flexible and more or less moist. When 
placed in the dry air of an exhibition hall they 
will shrink somewhat and in so doing may often 




be distorted. Accordingly, before being placed ing, but is a task that requires much experience 

on exhibition, the animals are firmly tied down if a lifelike animal is to be constructed. All 

and left to dry. Observe the cords passing over skins come to the work-shop done up in tight 

the back and the precautions taken to prevent bundles, with nothing except themselves to 

their cutting or rubbing the shrinking hide, show the dimensions, appearance, and so on of 

Upon the shoulders appear a number of curious the creatures from which they were taken. The 

worm-like pads secured by nails. They are in- taxidermist must first decide how he will pose 

tended to hold the skin in place without per- his animal, whether standing, sitting, or lying 

mitting it to be torn as it shrinks. down. He is not copying from a model, as a 


Last comes Fig. 4, showing the walrus sculptor or a painter usually is, but is making 

mounted and ready for inspection. an original pose. 

Preparing the frames is not, as some may Of course the frames will vary with the pose, 

suppose, merely a matter of skilled carpenter- Live animals can dispose their bones in dozens 



of different attitudes, but stuffed ones have no 
such flexibility ; they must have a different 
frame for every posture. Notice the large ani- 
mals the next time you go to a Zoo, and you 
will see that some bones which are very prom- 
inent in one attitude disappear entirely in an- 
other. The workman then must know enough 
of the animal in question to decide just what 
points are to be emphasized in the chosen pose. 
This brings up the question of actual dimen- 
sions. Study of a skin as it hangs outside a 

where the important bones in a skeleton must 
have been and where the important points in 
the wooden frame must accordingly be. What 
small inaccuracies there may be when the 
frame is completed can be rectified by padding 
with excelsior. 

Fig. 5 shows a view of an elephant all 
ready to have the skin put on, and Fig. 6 one of 
the early stages in mounting a buffalo. There 
have been recent improvements in the process 
of mounting animals, whereby plaster of Paris 


furrier's window or lies as a rug on a parlor 
floor will quickly show how difficult it is to de- 
cide even so simple a question as the distance 
between the points where the legs must be 
joined to the body. Here is where experience 
comes in ; a skilled man can tell very accurately 

is employed in some cases instead of excelsior. 
The advantage of this is that the plaster is too 
hard to be pulled out of shape by the drying 
skin, as the excelsior sometimes is, thus doing 
away with the necessity of waiting for the 
mount to dry before exhibiting it. 


The two pictures on this page are copies of 
a pair of paintings, or decorations, in a Chicago 
school-room. The original pictures are the 
work of a clever young artist of that city, Miss 
Hope Dunlap, who, in choosing her subjects, 
preferred to depict girls and boys at play in the 
open air rather than bending over desks and 

To young eyes, weary of the hard problems 
of arithmetic, grammar, or geography, it must 
be a welcome relief to look upon these pictures, 
filled with the jollity and freedom of the out- 
door sunshine; and the children should be 
grateful to the gifted young painter who has 
enlivened the walls of their school-room with 
scenes so cheery and pleasing. But it is quite 

possible, too, that on some dark day, when 
things have gone wrong and study-hours seem 
especially long and dull, the sight of these paint- 
ings may prove only tantalizing, distracting the 
young scholars' thoughts from books and les- 
sons. Many a tired lad or lassie must wish that 
he or she could fly away from the school-room 
and share in the good times that these little 
folk of the artist's brush are having. 

But if occasionally these pictures make the 
school-room seem all the darker and the text- 
books more dull and dreary than ever, it is only 
for the moment, since they are a consoling re- 
minder, too, of the happy hours to come, when 
the last lessons are said, examinations are over, 
and vacation actually begins. 


There 's a beautiful art that is sadly ne- 
And daily I wonder to see it rejected 
By some who 'd be healthy and wealthy and 

By just condescending to open their eyes 
And look at things fairly, with never a 

pout — 
I refer to the fine art of doing without. 

"Why, that's nothing wonderful!" maybe 

you '11 say; 
" I do without things that I want every day ! " 
Quite likely you do. But how do you do 

it — 
With good grace, or a face that 's as blue as 
a bluet ? 

There 's a wonderful difference (just jot that 

Between giving up things with a smile or a 

frown ; 
And that is precisely the difference between 
The artist and bungler — you see what I mean. 

You can't do as you like ? Then do as you can; 
I 'm sure you will find it the very best plan. 
Can't have what you want ? Take what you 

can get ; 
No better device has been patented yet. 
'T is the bravest and blithest and best way by far 
Not to let little losses your happiness mar. 
'T is an art that needs practice ; of that there 's 

no doubt : 
But 't is worth it — this fine art of doing without. 
Minnie Leona Upton. 


By E. L. Sylvester. 

She looked so bright and happy, 
Starting off the other day, 

That I could not but wonder 
Which way her journey lay. 

" Perhaps you 're bound for London ? " 
Said I, in kindly tone, 
J " For Paris, Rome, or Venice, 
Or maybe for Cologne ? 

" Or do you travel farther — 
To India or Japan ? 
To Turkey, Persia, Egypt, 
Siam, or Hindustan ? " 

Then, smiling at me gaily, 

She replied : " I 'm going down 

To Daisyville, New Jersey, sir, 
To visit Gran'ma Brown." 

6 9 6 


By Howard Pyle. 

Chapter VII. 


Now it befell upon a pleasant day in the 
springtime that Queen Guinevere went a-May- 
ing with a goodly company of knights and 
ladies of her court. And among those knights 
were Sir Pellias and Sir Geraint and Sir Dina- 
dor and Sir Aglaval and Sir Agravaine and Sir 
Constantine of Cornwall, and sundry others. 

The day was exceedingly pleasant, with the air 
as warm as milk, and the sunlight all yellow 
like to gold, and the breeze both soft and gen- 
tle. The small birds they sang in every thicket 
and hedge-row, so that it made the heart very 

* Copyrighted, 1902, by Howard Pyle. 
Vol. XXX.— 88-89. 6 97 

Drawn by Howard Pyle. 

joyful for to hear them. And all about there 
bloomed so many pretty flowers of divers sorts 
that the entire meadows were carpeted, as it 
were, with tender and delightful beauty. And 
anon the wind would wax strong and full, and 
anon it blew softly; and whenever it waxed 
strong all the tree-tops swam like soft plumes 
against the bright sky. 

Such was the spring day when Queen Guine- 
vere and her court went a-Maying, and certes 
it is good to be abroad in the field and in the 
sunlight beneath the gentle sky at such a sea- 

And as the fair young queen and her gay 
court of lords and ladies gathered the white 
blossoms of the hawthorn, they ever chattered 
and laughed and made them very merry. 

All rights reserved. 

6 9 8 



It was down in the meadows they were, be- 
side the smooth-flowing river, and as they 
walked in joy of holiday among the fragrant 
blossoms, one of the damsels who was attendant 
upon the queen cried out of a sudden : " Lady, 
oh, my lady, look ! pray look ! Who can he be 
that cometh yonder ? " 

Then Queen Guinevere lifted up her eyes, 
and, behold ! she saw that there came across 
the meadows a damsel riding upon a milk-white 
palfrey. And, accompanying the damsel, there 
were three pages beautifully clad in sky-blue 
raiment. And the damsel was also clad entirely 
in blue, excepting that she wore a finely wrought 
chain of gold about her neck, and a fillet of 
gold about her brows. And her hair (which 
was as yellow as gold) was wrapped all about 
with bands of blue ribbon, embroidered with 
gold. And Queen Guinevere observed that of 
the pages that followed the damsel one of them 
bore a square frame, and that the frame was 
enveloped and covered with a curtain of crim- 
son satin. 

Now when the queen beheld that goodly 
company approaching, she bade Sir Pellias for 
to go forth to meet the damsel. 

So when Sir Pellias met the damsel and her 
three pages, he spake to her in this wise : " Fair 
damsel, I am commanded by yonder lady for 
to greet you, and to crave of you the favor of 
your name, so that I may make you beknown 
unto her." 

And the damsel replied : " Sir Knight, I do 
perceive from your countenance and address 
that you are certes some lord of very high es- 
tate and of great nobility; wherefore I will gladly 
tell to you that my name is Parcenet, and that 
I am a damsel belonging to the court of a cer- 
tain very high dame who dwelleth at a consider- 
able distance from here and who is called the 
Lady Ettard of Grantmesnle. I come hither- 
ward desiring to be admitted to the presence of 
Queen Guinevere ; accordingly if you shall tell 
me whereabouts I may find that noble lady, I 
shall assuredly be very greatly beholden unto 

" Ha, lady ! " quoth Sir Pellias, " thou shalt 
not have very far to go to find that noble 
queen; for, behold, yonder she walketh, sur- 
rounded by her court of lords and ladies." And 

the damsel said : "I prithee bring me unto 

So Sir Pellias led Parcenet unto the queen, 
and made the queen acquainted with the name 
and title of the damsel. And Queen Guine- 
vere, with great graciousness of demeanor, de- 
manded of the damsel what might be the busi- 
ness that brought her thitherward so great a 
distance from her home. 

" Lady, " quoth the damsel, " I will tell you 
that very readily. The Lady Ettard, my mis- 
tress, is considered by all those in that part of 
the world whence I came to be the most beauti- 
ful lady in all the world. Now of late there 
hath come such a report of the exceeding beauty 
of the Lady Guinevere that the Lady Ettard 
hath seen fit for to send me hitherward for to 
see for myself if that which is said of the beauty 
of that queen is soothly true. And indeed, 
lady, now that I stand before you, I may not 
say but that you are the fairest dame that ever 
mine eyes beheld — only saving and excepting 
my Lady Ettard." 

Then Queen Guinevere laughed with a very 
great heart of mirth. " Fair damsel," quoth 
she, " it seemeth to me to be a very merry affair 
that thou shouldst have traveled for so great a 
distance for so small a matter. And, in sooth, 
I set no great store by mine appearance, what- 
soever it may be; wherefore I am altogether 
willing to concede that thy lady — and haply 
many another — is far more fair than I am. 
For though the court of queen or lady may 
flatter her, yet her looking-glass doth always tell 
her the very truth without any flattery whatso- 
ever. But tell me, damsel, what is that thy 
page beareth so carefully wrapped in that cur- 
tain of crimson satin ? " 

" That," quoth the damsel, " is a true and 
perfect picture of the Lady Ettard my mis- 

Then Queen Guinevere said : " Now I will 
that thou show to me and my court the pic- 

" That will I do," said the damsel. Where- 
upon she commanded the page who bore the 
picture for to come forward. And the page did 
so, and dismounting from his noble white horse, 
and kneeling upon one knee, he uncovered the 
picture before the face of Queen Guinevere and 




before her court, so that the queen and all her 
court beheld the picture. And the picture was 
painted very cunningly upon a panel of ivory, 
framed with gold and beset with many jewels of 
divers colors. And the queen and her court 
beheld that the picture was the picture of a lady 
of such surpassing and extraordinary beauty 
that her like was hardly to be found in all of 
the world. 

" Hey ! " quoth Queen Guinevere, " thy lady 
is indeed graced with an extraordinary beauty, 
fair damsel; and if she indeed resembles that 
picture, I am very well fain to acknowledge 
that her like for loveliness is not to be found 
in all of the world." 

Then up spake Sir Pellias before all that 
noble court. " Not so, dear lady," quoth he ; 
" for I do protest, and am willing to maintain 
my words against all comers, that thou thyself 
art by far the most beautiful lady in the entire 

" Heyday, Sir Knight," quoth the damsel 
Parcenet. " It is well that thou dost maintain 
that saying so far away from the ten towers of 
Grantmesnle ; for at that place is a certain 
knight, called Sir Engamore of Malverat, who is 
a very great knight indeed, and who maintaineth 
the same in favor of the Lady Ettard against 
all comers who dare to encounter him." 

Then Sir Pellias placed his palms together 
before Queen Guinevere and besought her thus: 
" Lady, I do pray thee of thy grace that thou 
wilt so far honor me as to accept me for thy 
true knight in this matter. For I would fain 
assay this adventure in thy behalf if I have thy 
permission for to do so. And if thou grantest 
me leave I will straightway go forth against Sir 
Engamore of Malverat, and I greatly hope that 
when I meet him I shall cause his overthrow, to 
the increasing of thy honor." 

Then Queen Guinevere laughed again with 
very great mirth. " Dear knight," quoth she, 
" it pleaseth me beyond measure that thou 
shouldst take upon thee in my behalf so small 
a quarrel of mine as this quarrel is. For if so 
be thou dost assume so small a quarrel, then 
how much more wouldst thou take a more 
serious quarrel upon thee! Wherefore I do 
accept thee very joyfully for my champion in 
this affair. So go thou presently and arm thy- 

self in such a way as may be fitting for this ad- 

" Lady," said Sir Pellias, " I do beseech thee 
further for to permit me in this affair to enter 
upon my undertaking clad in no better guise 
than I now am. For an I do succeed in win- 
ning for myself armor and accoutrements upon 
the way, consider how much greater will be thy 
due, seeing that I enter upon my adventure 
clad only in holiday raiment." 

Now at this time Sir Pellias was clad alto- 
gether in an attire fitted for a May-day : to wit, 
doublet and hosen of fair crimson cloth of deli- 
cate texture, cut shoon of black velvet, and a 
black velvet cap surmounted by a long crimson 
feather. Hanging from his shoulders was a 
short fair cloak of crimson silk, embroidered in 
silver and with balls of silver dependent from 
the corners thereof. Wherefore it was never 
before heard of that a knight setting forth upon 
a serious adventure should go clad in such a 
guise. Nevertheless the queen did not forbid 
him, but she bade her page Florizel for to fetch 
the best horse that he might obtain for Sir 
Pellias, and bade him go as he listed. So he 
rode away, all in the sunlight, across that field 
abloom with many flowers ; and with him went 
the damsel Parcenet and the three pages clad 
in blue. 

Thus entered he upon that famous adventure 
of which I have now to tell you ; for so one 
oftentimes beginneth with a light heart a silly 
undertaking that endeth very seriously. 

So they rode for a considerable distance, with 
little or no discourse, until at last the damsel 
Parcenet said : " Sir, I know not thy name or 
thy condition, or who thou art ; wilt thou not 
inform me thereof ? " 

And Sir Pellias said : " I will so, damsel. Men 
call me Pellias of the Hill, and I am a knight 
of King Arthur's court and his Round Table." 

But when Parcenet heard who was that knight 
who rode beside her, she cried out with great 
voice ; for Sir Pellias was very famous throughout 
that entire land, and was held by many of good 
information to be the strongest knight in all of 
the realm, saving only King Arthur and King 
Pellinore — for at that time Sir Launcelot had 
not yet appeared, nor Sir Tristram, nor Sir 
Percival, nor Sir Bors de Ganis. And the 




maiden was wonderfully uplifted in thought for 
to find herself in the company of so famous a 
knight. Wherefore she said by and by : " It 
will surely be a great honor for Sir Engamore 
of Malverat to have to do with so famous a 
knight as thou art, Sir Pellias." Whereunto 
Sir Pellias replied : "I think there are several 
other knights of King Arthur's Table who are 
better knights than I." And Parcenet said: " I 
trow not, Sir Pellias." 

Then by and by she asked of Sir Pellias : 
" How wilt thou get thyself armor for to fight 
with Sir Engamore withal ? " 

And Sir Pellias made answer very steadfastly : 
" Maiden, I know not where I shall find me 
armor for my defense, but before the time cometh 
for me to engage with Sir Engamore of Malverat 
I shall find me armor sufficient for my purpose. 
For thou must know that it is not always the de- 
fense that a man weareth upon his body that 
bringeth him success, but more often the spirit 
that uplifteth him unto that which he under- 

And Parcenet said : " I would that I had a 
knight of such a spirit as thou hast, Sir Pellias." 
And Sir Pellias laughed and said : " Maiden, 
when thy time cometh I wish for thee a knight 
with much more spirit than I. Only tell me: 
wouldst thou have him fair or dark, or short or 
tall ? " 

And Parcenet said : " I would have him about 
as tall as thou art, and with the same color of 
hair and eyes, and with a straight nose like 
unto thine, and with a good wit such as thou 

To this Sir Pellias made reply : " Alacka- 
day ! why didst thou not tell me so ere we had 
come so far ? For I could easily have got thee 
a dozen such in Camelot ; for they have them 
there a-plenty in wicker cages, and sell them 
two for a farthing." 

Whereat the damsel laughed right cheerfully, 
and said: " I trow not, Sir Pellias." 

Thus talking with great good will and right 
pleasantly, Sir Pellias and Parcenet and the 
three pages following them traveled onward 
until about the middle of the day. 

At that time they came to a very pleasant 
place in a valley where was a plantation of 
apple-trees all abloom with pink blossoms. And 

here Sir Pellias he dismounted and then lifted 
the damsel down from off her palfrey. And 
when they had seated themselves in the grass 
one of the pages spread a fine napkin upon the 
soft and tender lawn, and upon the napkin he 
set a roasted capon and a fair loaf of white 
bread and a bottle of Rhenish wine the color of 
yellow gold. And Parcenet seated herself upon 
one side of the cloth and Sir Pellias sat upon 
the other side. Then, before they began for 
to eat, Sir Pellias spake and said: " Maiden, I 
would that I might gaze upon that picture of 
thy mistress again, and that I might behold 
it whilst I eat my meal." And Parcenet made 
reply : " Why not, Sir Pellias ? Thou shalt 
indeed see it." 

So she commanded the page who bore the 
picture for to fetch it, and the page did so and 
set it up against the trunk of the apple-tree. 
And Sir Pellias regarded the picture with a great 
deal of pleasure, and he said : " Ha, maiden, 
if thy lady is as fair of face as this picture telleth 
her to be, she is very fair indeed." Whereunto 
Parcenet replied : " I tell thee, Sir Pellias, that 
picture doeth her very ill favor, for she is a 
very great many times more beautiful than 

"Alas, maiden," said Sir Pellias, "in that 
case it is an ill thing for any knight for to have 
to assail her claim unto beauty. Now I tell 
thee truly, I would rather be the true knight of 
that lady than of any one whom I ever beheld 
in all of my life." 

At this Parcenet fell a-laughing beyond all 
measure. "Heyday, Sir Knight," quoth she, 
" and is it so with thee ? Now I may tell thee 
that ladies like to the Lady Ettard are as 
plentiful at Grantmesnle as knights like thee 
are plentiful at Camelot. For in like man- 
ner at Grantmesnle do they keep such ladies 
in wicker cages a-hanging like gay birds from 
the windows of houses." 

And Sir Pellias said : " Maiden, thou makest 
a mock of me." 

Thereupon they both fell to with right good 
will at their repast, for they were anhun- 

So I have told you how Sir Pellias and Parce- 
net began that journey, traveling right cheer- 




fully together through the gentle springtide so 
long ago. That night they lodged at a very 
quaint and pleasant inn that stood at the out- 
skirts of the Forest of Usk, having reached the 
border of the woodland at that time of the day 
when the sun was sloping to his setting. And 
the next day they entered the forest. 

Now after they had traveled a considerable 
distance through the depths of the silent wood- 
lands, they came to that part which is called 
the Forest of Arroy. And when they had come 
thither, the damsel Parcenet said to Sir Pellias : 
" Sir Knight, this part of the forest is called by 
those who know it the Forest of Adventure. 
For it is a very wonderful place, full of magic 
and of singular sights and sounds. For thou 
must know that it is in this part of the forest 
that there dwelleth the Lady of the Lake, and 
her magic is of a sort that maketh all this wood- 
land fay. Somewhere nigh to this place is that 
land containing the lake wherein she dwelleth, 
and I tell thee that very few people have ever 
entered that land to behold it, and fewer yet 
have returned to tell unto other men that 
which they have seen. And this forest is called 
the Forest of Adventure because that no knight 
hath ever entered its boundaries but some ad- 
venture of a strange sort hath befallen him." 

And Sir Pellias said: "Maiden, that which 
thou tellest me is very pleasant for to hear, for 
doubtless in this place I shall obtain a suit of 
armor to my liking." 

So they entered the Forest of Adventure 
without more ado, and as they traveled forward 
for a very long way they discovered that the 
forest here grew ever more dark and strange 
and lonesome, so that it seemed at times as 
though the silence covered them all over like a 
cloak, so that to those travelers the forest was 
soothly a very grimly place. So following their 
journey they came at last to a place where the 
road grew exceedingly narrow, and lo, before 
them was a brawling stream of water that ran 
down violently, with many whirlpools and water- 
falls, betwixt stones of huge and monstrous size 
covered with moss and lichen. And all the 
trees round about were crooked and bent and 
covered with thick green moss. And as they 
drew nigh to the ford of this stream they per- 
ceived a great thorn-tree that grew close by the 

way. And underneath the thorn-tree upon a 
bank of green moss there sat a beldam so 
aged and wrinkled that her like was hardly to 
be found in all the world. For her chin rose 
upward toward her nose, and her nose de- 
scended toward her chin ; and her face it was 
covered with a multitude of wrinkles. And 
when this beldam perceived them drawing nigh, 
she called aloud upon Sir Pellias in a cracked 
and broken voice : " Sir Knight, Sir Knight, wilt 
thou not of thy knightliness help a poor body 
across this torrent ? Here beneath this thorn- 
tree have I sat for many days, and yet no one 
cometh who will give me aid." 

Then Parcenet said to the old woman : 
" Peace, be still, thou hag. Who art thou who 
sittest here in rags and tatters that dareth to ask 
of so noble a knight for to give thee such aid as 
that ? " 

But the old woman cried all the louder : " Sir 
Knight, Sir Knight, I do beseech thee of thy 
knighthood for to carry me across this torrent. 
For behold my frame, how aged and how feeble. 
I may not cross the water of my own strength, 
for an I undertake it I must of a surety sink 
therein and perish." 

Then Sir Pellias turned his face upon Par- 
cenet, and he said very seriously: "It is thou 
who must hold peace, damsel. Dost thou know 
so little of true knightliness as to think that a 
fair face alone layeth claim upon one who 
weareth belt and golden spurs ? King Arthur, 
who is the perfect model of knighthood, would 
never take any difference to mind concerning 
who it was that called upon his knighthood for 
aid, provided that one were in need of his succor 
and assistance. And as he is himself so hath he 
taught his knights to be. Wherefore this poor 
creature hath as great a right to mine assistance 
as though she were the fairest dame in Chris- 
tendom." Then turning him toward the old 
woman, he said: "That which thou requirest 
of me I will perform according unto thy behest." 
Wherefore he dismounted from his noble war- 
horse, and lifting up the old woman from where 
she sat, he set her with great gentleness upon 
the saddle. Then himself mounting his steed 
once more, he drave into the ford of the stream, 
and so came across the torrent in safety to the 
other side. And close behind him came Par- 




cenet, and she neither laughed nor frowned, but 
she looked very strangely upon Sir Pellias, for 
mayhap she had never yet seen a knight of such 
a sort as that knight of King Arthur's Table, 
who would perform such a service for an old 
woman of such ill visage and all clad in rags 
and tatters. And after Parcenet came the three 
pages, and so they crossed the stream together. 

Now when they had reached the other side 
of the water Sir Pellias dismounted and would 
have aided the old woman to alight from the 
saddle ; but, lo ! she waited not for his aid, but 
leaped down very lightly from where she sat. 
Then befell a strange thing that passed all for 
marvelousness, for, instead of that old woman, 
there was in that place a wonderful lady of such 
extraordinary beauty of countenance and of 
apparel that neither Sir Pellias nor the damsel 
had ever beheld her like before. 

And if that forest was the forest of enchant- 
ment, then did this lady belong well in such a 
place, for she too was altogether of enchant- 
ment. For it was very plain to be seen that she 
was not of the earth like ordinary mortals, but 
was something altogether different. Her face 
was of a wonderful clearness, like to ivory for 
whiteness, and her eyes were black and bright, 
like unto two jewels set into ivory ; and she was 
clad all in green from head to foot, excepting that 
a cord of crimson and gold was interwoven into 
the meshes of her long hair, which was like to 
fine silk for softness and for glossiness. And 
around her neck was a wonderful necklace of 
opal stones and emeralds inset into gold, and 
about her wrists were bracelets of wrought gold 
inset with emerald stones and opals. 

Thus had the Lady of the Lake appeared 
unto King Arthur, and thus did she appear 
unto Sir Pellias that day. 

And when Sir Pellias beheld her extraordinary 
beauty, and that it was in no wise like to the 
earthly beauty of any lady whom he had ever 
beheld, he wotted that she must be some one of 
high degree and of exalted station in a land of 
faerie into which he had entered. Wherefore 
he knelt before her and set his hands together, 
palm to palm. And she said: " Sir Pellias, why 
dost thou kneel unto me?" And he said: 
" Lady, because thou art so wonderful." And 
she said : " Thou shalt not kneel .to me, Sir 

Pellias, for he who serveth a lady as thou hast 
done service to me maketh himself her equal, 
whosoever she may be." And he said to her: 
" Lady, who art thou ? " And she replied: " I 
am one who holds an exceedingly kind regard 
toward King Arthur and all his knights, because 
that he and they are of such noble sort and 
quality. And more especially do I hold a kind 
regard unto thee, Sir Pellias; though why that 
should be thou as yet knowest not. I am she, 
by name Nymue, whom men call the Lady of 
the Lake, and it was through me that King 
Arthur obtained that wonderful sword called 

And Sir Pellias said: "Lady, thou doest me 
great favor in that thou lettest mine eyes be- 
hold thy beauty." And the lady smiled upon 
Sir Pellias and said: " Sir Pellias, I am minded 
to do thee a much greater kindness than that, 
though what that kindness may be thou art 
not now prepared to know, but by and by 
thou shalt know it. Meantime I do claim 
thee for my knight in that thou hast so well 
served me this day. And in token of my kind- 
ness toward thee I do bestow this upon thee, 
which I bid thee to wear under all circum- 
stances ; for it is of a virtue that thou wottest 
not of." Therewith she took from about her 
neck that collar of opal stones, of emeralds, and 
of gold, and hung the same about the neck and 
shoulders of Sir Pellias, so that it hung down 
upon his crimson raiment with a very wonder- 
ful glory of variegated colors. Then, while Sir 
Pellias still knelt, she vanished from the sight 
of those who looked upon her, and was gone 
upon that moment, leaving them all astonished 
and bemazed at what had befallen. For, lo! 
where she had been there was nothing but that 
woodland and the brawling stream. 

Then, by and by, Sir Pellias arose from his 
knees like one in the maze of some wonderful 
dream. So he mounted upon his horse with- 
out speaking a word, but in entire silence. And 
likewise in entire silence they departed from 
that place. Only after they had gone a very 
considerable distance Parcenet said : " Sir Pel- 
lias, thou art certes very worthy of that great 
favor that hath been bestowed upon thee." 

And Sir Pellias, all bewildered, said with ex- 
ceeding modesty : " Dost thou think so, maiden ? " 



And she said : " Yea, I do think so." 
But Sir Pellias knew not that the necklace 
which the Lady of the Lake had hung about 
his neck possessed such a virtue that whoso- 
ever wore it, that one was beloved of all. For 
that collar of emerald, of opal, of gold, was, in- 
deed, of that singular virtue. 

And now listen of what furthur adventures 
befell Sir Pellias in this part of the forest, and 
of how he won him a suit of armor. 

Chapter VIII. 


Now, after that wonderful happening, they 
journeyed continuously for a great while. Nor 
did they pause at any place until they came, 
about an hour after the prime of the day, to a 
certain part of the forest where charcoal-burners 
were plying their trade. Here Sir Pellias com- 
manded that they should draw rein and rest for 
a while, and so they dismounted for to rest and 
to refresh themselves, as he had ordained that 
they should do. And while they ate their mid- 
day meal those sooty fellows who dwelt thus 
always within the deep and silent forest stood 
about them at a distance and looked at them 
from afar as though they were strange beings 
from out of another world. 

Now as they sat thus refreshing themselves 
with meat and drink, there came of a sudden 
from out of the forest a sound of great lamenta- 
tion and of loud outcry, and almost immediately 
there appeared from the thickets, coming into 
that open place, a lady in woeful array, riding 
upon a pied palfrey. And behind her rode a 
young esquire, clad in colors of green and white 
and seated upon a sorrel horse. And he also 
appeared to be possessed of great sorrow, being 
in much disarray and very downcast of counte- 
nance. And the lady's face was all beswollen 
and inflamed with weeping, and her hair hung 
down upon her shoulders with neither net nor 
band for to stay it in place, and her raiment was 
greatly torn by the brambles and much stained 
with forest travel. And the young esquire who 


rode behind her came with a drooping head and 
a like woeful disarray of bramble-torn apparel, 
his cloak dragging behind him made fast to 
his shoulder by only a single point. 

Now when Sir Pellias beheld the lady and 
the esquire in such sad estate, he arose imme- 
diately from where he sat, and went straightway 
to the lady and took her horse by the bridle and 
stayed it where it was. And the lady looked 
at him yet saw him not, being altogether 
blinded by her grief and distraction. 

Then Sir Pellias said to her : " Lady, what 
ails thee, that thou sorrowest so greatly ? " 

Whereunto she made reply : " Sir, it matters 
not, for thou canst not help me." 

" How know ye that ? " said Sir Pellias. " For 
I have a very good intention in my heart for to 
aid thee if it be possible for me to do so." 

Then the lady looked more nearly at Sir Pel- 
lias, and she perceived him as though through 
a mist of sorrow. And she beheld that he was 
not clad in armor, but only in a holiday attire 
of fine crimson cloth. Wherefore she began 
sorrowing afresh, and that in great measure, 
for she deemed that here was one who could 
give her no aid in her sorrow. Wherefore 
she said : " Sir Knight, thy intentions are kind, 
but how canst thou look to give me aid when 
thou hast neither arms nor defenses for to help 
thee in taking upon thee such a quarrel ? " 

And Sir Pellias said : " Lady, I know not how 
I may aid thee until that thou tellest me of thy 
sorrow. Yet I have good hope that I may 
serve thee when I shall know what it is that 
causes thee such disorder of mind." 

Thereupon, still holding the horse by the 
bridle, he brought the lady forward to that 
place where Parcenet still sat beside the napkin 
spread with food. And when he had come to 
that place, he, with all gentleness, constrained 
the lady for to dismount from her horse. Then, 
with equal gentleness, he compelled her to sit 
down upon the grass and to partake of the food. 
And when she had done so, and had drunk 
some of the wine, she found herself to be greatly 
refreshed, and began to take to herself more 
heart of grace. Thereupon, beholding her so 
far recovered, Sir Pellias again demanded of 
her what was her trouble, and besought her 
that she would open her heart unto him. 




So, being encouraged by his cheerful words, 
she told to Sir Pellias the trouble that had 
brought her to that pass. 

" Sir Knight," she said, " the place where I 
dwell is a considerable distance from this. 
Thence I came this morning with a very good 
knight called Sir Brandemere, who is my hus- 
band. Now this morning Sir Brandemere would 
take me out a-hunting at the break of day ; and 
so we went forth with a white hound of which 
my knight was wonderfully fond. So, coming 
to a certain place in the forest, there started 
up of a sudden from before us a white doe, 
which same the hound immediately pursued 
with great vehemence of outcry. Thereupon 
I and my lord and this esquire followed there- 
after with very great spirit and enjoyment for 
that sport. Now when we had followed the 
white doe and the white hound for a great 
distance, we came to a certain place where we 
beheld before us a violent stream of water 
which was crossed by a long and narrow bridge. 
And we beheld that upon the other side of the 
stream there stood a strong castle with seven 
towers, and that the castle was built up upon 
the rocks in such a way that the rocks and the 
castle appeared to be altogether like one rock. 

" Now as we approached the bridge afore- 
said, lo ! the portcullis of the castle was lifted 
up and the drawbridge was let fall very sud- 
denly and with a great noise, and there imme- 
diately issued forth from out of the castle a 
knight clad altogether in red. And all the 
trappings and the furniture of his horse were 
likewise of red ; and the spear which he bore 
in his hand was of ash-wood painted red. And 
he came forth very terribly, and rode forward 
so that he presently stood at the other end of 
that narrow bridge. Thereupon he called out 
aloud to Sir Brandemere my husband, saying : 
' Whither wouldst thou go, Sir Knight ? ' And 
unto him Sir Brandemere made reply : ' Sir, I 
would cross this bridge; for my hound, which 
I love exceedingly, hath certainly crossed here 
in pursuit of a doe as white as milk.' Then that 
Red Knight cried out in a loud voice : ' Sir 
Knight, thou comest not upon this bridge but 
at thy peril ; for this bridge belongeth unto me, 
and whosoever would cross it must first over- 
throw me or else he may not cross.' 

" Now my husband Sir Brandemere was 
clad at that time only in a light raiment such 
as one might wear for hunting or for hawking ; 
only that he wore upon his head a light basi- 
net of steel infolded with a scarf which I had 
given him. Ne'theless he was so great of heart 
that he would not abide any challenge such as 
that Red Knight had given unto him ; where- 
fore, bidding me and this esquire (whose name 
is Ponteferet) to remain upon the farther side of 
the bridge, he drew his sword and rode forward 
to the middle of the bridge with intent to force 
a way across if he was able so to do. Where- 
upon, seeing that to be his intent, that Red 
Knight, clad all in complete armor, cast aside 
his spear and drew his sword and rode forward 
to meet my knight. And so they met in the 
middle of the bridge. And when they met to- 
gether that Red Knight lifted himself in his stir- 
rups and smote my husband Sir Brandemere 
upon the crown of his basinet with his sword. 
And I beheld the blade of the Red Knight's 
sword that it cut through the basinet of Sir 
Brandemere, so that the blood ran down upon 
my knight's face in great abundance. Then Sir 
Brandemere straightway fell down from his 
horse and lay as though he were dead. 

" Having thus overthrown him, that Red 
Knight dismounted from his horse and lifted up 
Sir Brandemere upon the horse whence he had 
fallen, so that he lay across the saddle. Then, 
taking both horses by the bridle, the Red 
Knight led them both straight away and so into 
his castle. And as soon as he had entered into 
the castle the portcullis thereof was immediately 
closed behind him and the drawbridge was 
raised. Nor did he pay any heed whatever 
either to me or to the esquire Ponteferet, but 
he departed, leaving us without any word of 
cheer; nor do I now know whether my hus- 
band Sir Brandemere is living or dead, or what 
hath befallen him." 

And as the lady spake these words, lo, the 
tears again fell down her face in great abun- 

Then Sir Pellias was very much moved with 
compassion ; wherefore he said : " Lady, thy 
case is indeed one of exceeding sorrowfulness, 
and I am wonderfully grieved for thee. And, 
indeed, I would fain aid thee to all the extent 




that is in my power. So if thou wilt lead me 
to where is this bridge and that grimly castle of 
which thou speakest, I make thee my vow that 
I will assay to the best of my endeavor to learn 

ir Pellias encounters % m 
Soreotpfnl Laby inAnog 

of the whereabouts of thy good knight, and as 
to what has befallen him." 

" Sir," said the lady, " I am much beholden 
unto thee for thy good will. Yet thou mayst 
not hope for success shouldst thou venture to 
undertake so grave an adventure as that with- 
out either arms or armor for to defend thyself 

withal. For consider how grievously that Red 
Knight hath served my husband Sir Brande- 
mere, taking no consideration as to his lack of 
arms or of defense. Wherefore it is not likely 
that he will serve thee 
any more courteously." 
And to the lady's words 
Parcenet also lifted up 
a great voice, bidding 
Sir Pellias not to be so 
foolhardy as to do this 
thing that he was mind- 
ed to do. And so did 
Ponteferet, the esquire, 
also call out upon Sir 
Pellias that he should 
not do this thing, but 
that he should at least 
take arms to himself 
ere he entered upon 
this adventure. 

But to all that they 
said Sir Pellias replied : 
" Stay me not in that 
which I would do, for 
I do tell you all that I 
have several times un- 
dertaken adventures 
even more perilous 
than this, and yet I 
have scaped with no 
great harm to myself." 
Nor would he listen to 
anything that the lady 
and the damsel might 
say, but arising from 
that place, he aided the 
lady and the damsel to 
mount their palfreys. 
Then mounting his 
own steed, and the es- 
quire and the pages 
having mounted their 
steeds, the whole party immediately departed 
from that place, leaving the charcoal-burners 
much marveling at the wonderful visitors who 
had come thus into their smoky world. 

And as they journeyed, the esquire Ponte- 
feret directed them how to proceed so as to 
bring them to the castle of the Red Knight. 

D? aiuH by Howard Pyle. 




In this way they traveled those lonely wood- 
land paths of the Forest of Adventure, nor did 
they perceive any break in the woodlands until 
after three leagues or four or a little more they 
came to a more open place in that wilderness 
where was a steep and naked hill before them. 
And when they had reached to the top of that 
hill, they perceived beneath them a river, very 
turbulent and violent. Likewise they saw that 
the river was spanned by a bridge, exceedingly 
straight and narrow, and that upon the farther 
side of the bridge and of the river there stood 
a very strong castle with seven tall towers and 
many roofs of red tiles. Moreover, the castle 
and the towers were built up upon the rocks, very 
lofty and high, so that it was hard to tell where 
the rocks ceased and the walls began. Where- 
fore the towers and the walls appeared to be 
altogether one rock of stone. And about the 
tops of the towers there flew an incredible 
number of jackdaws with a very great deal of 
noisy clamoring, and there were so many of 
those jackdaws that they appeared like bees 
swarming about a beehive. 

Then the esquire Ponteferet pointed with 
his finger and said : " Sir Knight, yonder is the 
castle of the Red Knight, and into it he bore 
Sir Brandemere after he had been so grievously 
wounded." And Sir Pellias said unto the lady, 
Sir Brandemere's wife : " Lady, I will presently 
inquire as to thy husband's welfare." 

Therewith he set spurs to his horse and rode 
down the hill toward the bridge with great 
boldness. And when he had come nigher to 
the bridge, lo, the portcullis of the castle was 
lifted and the drawbridge was let fall with a 
great noise and tumult. And straightway there 
issued forth from out of the castle a knight clad 
all in armor and accoutrements of red. And 
this knight came forward with great speed 
toward the bridge's head. Then, when Sir 
Pellias saw him approaching so threateningly, 
he went forth very boldly upon the bridge, 
and when the Red Knight saw him approach, 
he said, "Ha! who art thou who darest to 
come thus upon my bridge ? " 

Unto him Sir Pellias made reply : " It matters 
not who I am, but thou art to know, thou dis- 
courteous knight, that I am come to inquire of 
thee where thou hast disposed of that good 

knight Sir Brandemere, and to ask of thee why 
thou didst deal with him so grievously a short 
time since." 

At this the Red Knight grew very full of 
wrath. "Ha, ha!" he cried vehemently. "That 
thou shalt presently learn to thy great sorrow, 
for as I have served him so shall I presently 
serve thee, so that in a little while I shall bring 
thee unto him. Then thou mayst ask him 
whatsoever thou dost list. But seeing that thou 
art unarmed and without defense, I would not 
do thee any bodily ill. Wherefore I demand of 
thee that thou shalt presently surrender thyself 
unto me ; otherwise it will be very greatly to 
thy pain and sorrow if thou compel me to use 
force for to constrain thy surrender." 

Then Sir Pellias said: " What! what ! Wouldst 
thou thus assail a knight who is altogether 
without arms or defense as I ? " 

And the Red Knight said : " That shall I do 
if thou dost not yield thyself unto me." 

" Then," quoth Pellias, " thou art not fit for 
to be dealt with as beseemeth a tried knight; 
wherefore should I encounter thee thy over- 
throw must be of such a sort as may shame any 
belted knight who weareth golden spurs." 

Thereupon he cast about his eyes for a weapon 
to fit his purpose, and he beheld how that a 
certain great stone was loose upon the coping 
of the bridge; so this he laid hands upon for 
his purpose. 

Now this stone was so huge that three strong 
men of this day might hardly lift it ; yet did Sir 
Pellias pluck it forth from its place seemingly 
with great ease. Then uplifting it with both 
hands, he ran swiftly toward that Red Knight 
and flung the rock at him with great force. 

Nor might the Red Knight withstand that 
blow, nor hardly might any man in all of the 
world have withstood it. For the stone smote 
the Red Knight upon the middle of the shield, 
and drave it back upon his breast with great 
violence. And the force of the blow drave the 
knight backward from his saddle, so that he fell 
down to the earth from his horse with great vio- 
lence and tumult, and lay upon the bridgeway 
like one who was altogether dead. 

And when they within the castle who looked 
forth thereupon saw that blow, and when they 
beheld the overthrow of the Red Knight, they 




lifted up their voices in great lamentation, so 
that the outcry thereof was terrible for to hear. 

But Sir Pellias ran with all speed to the 
fallen knight and set his knee upon his breast ; 
and he unlaced his helmet and lifted it ; and 
he beheld that the face of the knight was 
strong and comely, and that he was not alto- 
gether dead. 

So when Sir Pellias saw that the Red Knight 
was not dead, and when he perceived that he 
was about to recover his breath from the blow 
that he had suffered, he drew that knight's mis- 
ericorde from its sheath and set the point to 
his throat, so that when the Red Knight awoke 
from his swoon he beheld death, as it were, in 
the countenance of Sir Pellias and in the point 
of the dagger. 

So when the Red Knight perceived how 
very near death was to him he sore besought 
Sir Pellias for mercy, saying, " Spare my life unto 
me ! " Whereunto Sir Pellias said, " Who art 
thou ? " And the knight said, " I am called Sir 
Adresack, surnamed of the Seven Towers." And 
Sir Pellias said to him, " What hast thou done 
unto Sir Brandemere and how doth it fare with 
that goodly knight ? " And the Red Knight 
said, " He is not so seriously wounded as you 

Now when Sir Brandemere's lady heard this 
speech she was greatly exalted with joy, so that 
she smote her hands together, making great cry 
of thanksgiving. 

But Sir Peliias said : " Now tell me, Sir Adre- 
sack, hast thou other captives beside that knight 
Sir Brandemere at thy castle ? " And Sir 
Adresack said : " Sir Knight, I will tell thee 
truly; there are in my castle one and twenty 
other captives besides him : to wit, eighteen 
knights and esquires of degree and three ladies. 
For I have defended this bridge for a long 
time, and all who have undertaken to cross it, 
they have I taken captive and held for ransom. 
Wherefore I have taken great wealth and gained 
great estate thereby." 

Then Sir Pellias said : " Thou art soothly a 
wicked and discourteous knight so to serve 
travelers that come thy way, and I would do 
well for to slay thee where thou liest. But since 
thou hast besought mercy of me, I will grant it 
unto thee, though I will do so only with great 

shame unto thy knighthood. Moreover, if I 
spare to thee thy life there are two several 
things which thou must perform. First thou 
must go unto Queen Guinevere at Camelot, 
and there must thou say unto her that the 
knight who left her unarmed hath taken thine 
armor from thee and hath armed himself there- 
with for to champion her beauty withal, as he 
hath set out to do. Second thou must confess 
thy faults unto King Arthur as thou hast con- 
fessed them unto me, and thou must beg his 
pardon for the same, craving that he, in his 
mercy, shall spare thy life unto thee. These 
are the things that thou must perform." 

And Sir Adresack said : " These things do I 
promise to perform if thou wilt spare my life." 

Then Sir Pellias permitted him to arise, and 
he came and stood before Sir Pellias. And Sir 
Pellias summoned the esquire Ponteferet unto 
him, and he said: "Take thou this knight's 
armor from off his body, and then put thou it 
upon my body, as thou knowest how to do." 
And Ponteferet did as Sir Pellias bade him. 
He unarmed Sir Adresack and he clothed Sir 
Pellias in Sir Adresack's armor. Then Sir Pel- 
lias said unto Sir Adresack : " Now take me 
into thy castle, that I may thereunto liberate 
those captives that thou so wickedly holdest 
there." And Sir Adresack said : " It shall be 
done as thou dost command." 

Thereupon they all went together through 
the gate into the castle, which was an ex- 
ceedingly stately place. And there they beheld 
a great many servants and attendants, and 
these came at the command of Sir Adresack 
and bowed themselves down before Sir Pellias. 
Then Sir Pellias bade Sir Adresack for to sum- 
mon the keeper of the dungeon and Sir Adre- 
sack did so. And Sir Pellias commanded the 
keeper that he should conduct them unto the 
dungeon, and the keeper bowed down before 
him in obedience. 

And when they had come to that dungeon 
they beheld it to be a very lofty place and 
exceedingly strong. And there they found Sir 
Brandemere and those others of whom Sir 
Adresack had spoken. 

But when that sorrowful lady perceived Sir 
Brandemere, she ran unto him with great voice 
of rejoicing, and embraced him and wept over 



| June, 

tr Pell! as, % Gentle <? 

him. And he embraced her and wept, and those captives whom he had liberated went 
altogether forgot his hurt in the joyous delight through the divers parts of the castle. And 
of beholding her again. 

And in the several 
apartments of that por- 
tion of the castle were 
just eighteen knights 
and esquires and three 
ladies, also, besides Sir 
Brandemere. Among 
all of those knights 
were two from King 
Arthur's court : to wit, 
Sir Brandiles and Sir 
Mador de la Porte. 
Whereupon when these 
beheld that it was Sir 
Pellias who had liber- 
ated them, they em- 
braced him with great 
joy and kissed him 
upon either cheek. 

And all those who 
were liberated made 
great rejoicing and 
gave Sir Pellias such 
praise and acclaim that 
he was greatly content- 
ed therewith. Then 
when Sir Pellias beheld 
all those captives who 
were in the dungeon 
he was very wroth with 
Sir Adresack ; where- 
upon he turned unto 
him and said : " Be- 
gone, Sir Knight, for 
to do that penance 
which I imposed upon 
thee to perform ; for I 
am very greatly dis- 
pleased with thee, and 

Drawn by Howard Pyl 

fear me lest I should 
repent me of my mercy to thee." 

Thereupon Sir Adresack turned him away, 
and he immediately departed from that place 
and called to him his esquire, and with him 
he rode away to Camelot for to do that 
penance which he had promised Sir Pellias for 
to do, 

Then, after he was gone, Sir Pellias and 

there they found thirteen chests of gold and 
silver money and four caskets of jewels, — very 
fine and of great brilliancy, — all of which trea- 
sure had been paid in ransom by other captives 
who had in aforetime been violently held at 
that place. 

And Sir Pellias ordained that all those chests 
and caskets should be opened, and when those 
who were there looked therein, the hearts of all 




were wonderfully exalted with joy at the sight 
of that great treasure. 

Then Sir Pellias commanded that all that 
treasure of gold and silver should be divided 
into nineteen equal parts, and when it had 
been so divided he said : " Now let each of 
you who have been held captive in this place 
take for his own one part of that treasure as a 
recompense for those sorrows which he hath 
endured." Moreover, to each of the ladies 
who had been held as captives in that place 
he gave a casket of jewels, saying unto her : 
" Take thou this casket of jewels as a recom- 
pense for that sorrow which thou hast suffered." 
And unto Sir Brandemere's lady he gave a 
casket of the jewels for that which she had en- 

But when those who were there beheld that 
Sir Pellias reserved no part of that great trea- 
sure for himself, they all cried out upon him: 
" Sir Knight, Sir Knight ! how is this ? Be- 
hold, thou hast set aside no part of this treasure 
for thyself." 

And Sir Pellias made answer : " You are 
right; I have not so. For it needs not that I 
take any of this gold and silver or any of these 
jewels for myself. For, behold! ye have suf- 
fered much at the hands of Sir Adresack, where- 
fore ye should receive recompense therefor. 
But I have suffered naught at his hands, 
wherefore I need no such recompense." 

Then were they all astonished at his gener- 
osity, and gave him great praise for his large- 
ness of heart. And all those knights vowed 
unto him fidelity unto death. 

Then, when all these things were accom- 
plished, Sir Brandemere implored all who were 

there that they would come with him unto his 
castle, so that they might refresh themselves 
with a season of mirth and good faring. And 
they all said that the"y would go with him, and 
they did go. And at the castle of Sir Brande- 
mere there was great rejoicing, with feasting 
and jousting. 

And all who were there loved Sir Pellias with 
an astonishing love, because of that collar of 
emeralds and opals and gold. Yet no one 
knew aught of the virtue of that collar, nor did 
Sir Pellias himself know of it. 

So Sir Pellias abided at that place for three 
days. And when the fourth day was come he 
arose betimes in the morning and bade saddle 
his horse and the palfrey of the damsel Parcenet 
and the horses of their pages. Then, when all 
those who were there saw that he was minded 
to depart, they besought him not to go; but Sir 
Pellias said: " Stay me not, for I must go." 

Then came to him those two good knights of 
Arthur's court, Sir Brandiles and Sir Mador de 
la Porte, and they besought him that he would let 
them go with him upon that adventure. And 
at first Sir Pellias forbade them; but they be- 
sought him the more, so that at last he was fain 
to say: "Ye shall go with me." 

So he departed from that place with his com- 
pany, and all those who remained gave great 
sorrow that he should go away. 

So ended this second adventure of Sir Pellias. 
And the next adventure telleth of how that 
good and valiant knight did battle with Sir 
Engamore of Malverat, the champion of the 
Lady Ettard of Grantmesnle, and in it shall be 
told the several adventures that befell thereby. 

( To be continued. ) 


By Lawrence B. Fletcher, Ph.D. 

Every one is familiar with toy magnets — 
straight or curved bars of steel which attract 
and hold suspended light pieces of iron such 
as tacks and iron filings. Let us examine one 
of these curious bars and see what we can learn 
about them. In the first place, how are they 
made, and how came they to be made? 

Thousands of years ago a mineral having 
this strange power of attracting iron was found 
in the country anciently called Magnesia, in Asia 
Minor. The name of this country has given us 
the word " magnet." This mineral, which is now 
called the lodestone (not loadsto?te), attracted the 
attention of the curious, and it was discovered 

that a piece of iron which had been rubbed with 
the lodestone acquired the same power of attract- 
ing iron ; in other words, the piece of iron became 
a magnet. It was afterward found that such an 
iron or artificial magnet could be used like the 
lodestone itself to convert other pieces of iron 
into magnets by rubbing. Still more recently, a 
mode of making magnets by means of electricity 
was discovered, that is, by wrapping a piece of 

i * ' i ' . 

insulated wire many times around the bar and 
then causing a current of electricity to pass 
through the wire. The familiar small toy mag- 
nets are simply steel bars which have been 
rubbed a few times against powerful magnets. 

Now, if we bring a needle near our little 
magnet we will at once find that all parts of the 
magnet do not act in precisely the same way. 

If the needle is brought near either end of the 
magnet it is strongly 
attracted, and if al- 
lowed to come in con- 
tact with the magnet 
it will take quite a lit- 
tle force to pull it away 
again. But if the nee- 
dle is brought near the 
middle of the magnet 
it is attracted very 
slightly or not at all. 

From this we can 
infer that all the 
strength of the mag- 
net is at its ends, or 
poles, as they are 
called. This is graph- 
ically shown in Fig. i, 
which represents a bar 
magnet that has been 
laid on a flat surface, 
such as a sheet of paper or a pane of glass, 
which has been covered with a light coat of 
fine iron filings. Upon lightly rapping the 
magnet or surface to overcome the friction 
of the jagged filings against each other and 
against the surface, these small particles of 
iron promptly arrange themselves as shown — 
clustering thickly round the poles and leaving 
a vacant space in the middle. We see, too, that 
the filings bristle out in various directions. Each 
filing, in fact, points in the direction of the mag- 
netic force at the spot where it lies. By laying 
the paper with the filings over the magnet and 
tapping it we may cause the filings to arrange 
themselves in a much more extended pattern, 
somewhat as shown in diagram in Fig. 2. 

The filings are here arranged in curved lines, a 
few of which may be traced from their start at 
one pole to their termination at the other. They 

FIG. 3. 



are shown more clearly when a horseshoe mag- 
net is used, because the poles are near each 
other. These curved lines are called " lines of 
force," because they indicate the direction of the 
magnetic force. 

But you must not think that the lines of force 
have any real existence, any more than the 
meridians and parallels of latitude on a map or 
globe have. They simply serve to map out the 
space about a magnet, the magnetic field, as it 
is called, and they may 
be drawn so as to show 
the strength as well as 
the direction of the 
magnetic force at every 

Now, though it would 
appear from this that 
only the ends of the 
magnet are magnetic, 
yet if the bar is broken 
in two and the pieces 
are separated, we find 
that the broken places 
attract the needle just 
as the original ends, or poles, did and still do. 
In fact, these broken ends are poles. 

In other words, each piece is a complete 
magnet, with two poles, and a place in the 
middle where there is no attraction. Now, if 
we put the broken ends together 
again, we might perhaps suppose 
that as we have brought two 
poles together at the break, this 
part of the bar would now at- 
tract the needle twice as strongly 
as one pole did. 

We shall find, however, that 
the reunited ends have no effect 
at all upon the needle. 

In fact, we have simply recon- 
structed the original magnet with 
two poles and a middle part where there is no 
attraction. We can break each of the pieces in 
two, and continue breaking until we have di- 
vided the magnet into a great number of short 
bits, and we shall find that each bit is a com- 
plete magnet with two poles. 

If we put the bits together again, however, 
the poles that come together disappear, and we 

have again a single magnet with a pole at each 
end and none at any other point. 

Why do the poles disappear ? Because mag- 
netic poles are of two different kinds, north poles 
and south poles, and if we put the fragments 
together exactly as they were originally a north 
pole and a south pole always come together. 

If a magnet is hung up by a string around 
its middle, it will turn so as to point north and 
south. The end which points north is usually 
called the north pole and the other end the south 
pole of the magnet. North poles and south 
poles have different and, to some extent, oppo- 
site properties. 

The north poles of two magnets repel each 
other. So do the south poles. But the north 
pole of each magnet attracts the south pole of 
the other. 

When no other artificial magnet is near, the 
free magnet points north and south under the 
influence of the greatest of all known magnets, 
the earth. If the earth were not a magnet a 
suspended magnet would show no preference 
for any particular direction. When a magnet 
is broken in two one of the broken ends be- 
comes a north and the other a south pole, as in 
Fig. 3. When these poles are put together they 
destroy each other's effects, as we have seen. 
Now, as a magnet may be divided into smaller 
magnets and built up again from them, it is 

FIG. 5. 

supposed that every magnet actually consists 
of a great number of very small magnets, with 
all their north poles pointing the same way, or 
nearly so. 

But when the iron is magnetized by rubbing 
it against a magnet, the little magnets in the 
iron are all turned by the influence of the large 
magnet to the same direction, so that north and 



south poles neutralize each other in the inte- 
rior of the bar; but at one end there is a collec- 
tion of free north poles and at the other a 
collection of free south poles. 

This may seem hard to believe, but several 
well-known facts make it probable. 

We have seen that magnets can he made by 
electricity. In this way not only can a bar be 
magnetized very quickly, but its magnetism can 
be almost instantly reversed; that is to say, 
the north pole can be changed to a south pole 
by simply changing the direction of the mag- 
netizing electric current. 

Now, when the bar is magnetized, a sharp 
metallic click is beard, and the bar is found to 
be a little longer and thinner than it was be- 
fore, its volume remaining unchanged. Then 
if the magnetism is reversed rapidly a number 
of times, a click is heard at every reversal, 
and the bar becomes quite warm from the 
rubbing together of the little magnets as they 
turn. It is easy to understand that soft or 
wrought iron, in which the particles can turn 
readily, is more easily magnetized than cast- 
iron or hard steel. Steel, on the other hand, 
retains its magnetism better than soft iron does, 
and it is of steel that the familiar permanent 
magnets are made. 

The strongest magnets are made of very hard 
steel. A strong magnet will lift many times its 
own weight. 

Small magnets are stronger in proportion to 
their weight than large ones, and the latter are 
best made by magnetizing thin steel bars sep- 
arately, and then fastening them together in 

I have spoken of magnetizing a bar of iron 
by rubbing it against a magnet ; but a nail or 
other piece of iron which is simply held against 
the pole of a magnet, or even very near but 
not touching, itself becomes a magnet for the 
time being, and will support another nail ap- 
plied to its lower end. (See Figs. 4 and 5.) 
If the magnet is strong and the nails not too 
heavy, a chain of four or five may be held in 
this way ; but if the first nail next to the mag- 

net is pulled away from the pole, it at once 
loses nearly all its magnetism, and lets the other 
nails fall. 

If a nail while in contact with the magnet 
is struck or hammered, it will retain more 
magnetism after separation, and will lift iron 
filings or small tacks; but if hammered after 
separation, it will lose nearly all its strength. 
In both cases the hammering seems to tem- 
porarily loosen the particles of iron, so that they 
can turn more readily to the same direction in 
the first case, and back to their original direc- 
tion in the second. 

Magnets are weakened by heating, and at a 
red heat lose all their strength. 

Magnets are frequently made in the form of 
a horseshoe or letter U , but a horseshoe mag- 
net is really nothing more than a bar magnet 
bent. As both poles will attract iron, it is ap- 
parently twice as strong as when in the bar 
form. A piece of iron laid across the poles is 
attracted by both of them. In this case the 
poles act on opposite ends of the iron and do not 
destroy each other's effects, for each pole mag- 
netizes the portion of the iron opposite it. The 
iron, therefore, becomes a strong magnet with 
its north pole touching the south pole of the 
horseshoe magnet, and its south pole touching 
the north pole. This is popularly called a 
" keeper," because it "keeps," or preserves, the 
strength of the magnet, which becomes much 
weaker when the keeper is left off. 

Iron, steel (which is a modified iron), the 
metals nickel and cobalt, and some substances 
which contain a large portion of iron, are the 
only bodies that can be strongly magnetized, 
though many others can be magnetized very 
feebly and temporarily. 

What magnetism really is, no one knows. It 
seems to be a natural property of the particles 
of iron, and what we call magnetizing is only, 
as I have said, the act of turning the magnetic 
particles so that they act together. This is fre- 
quently brought about by causes beyond our 
control, and almost all pieces of iron, if care- 
fully tested, are found to be weak magnets. 

Vol. XXX.— 90-91. 



By G. R. O'Reilly. 

URING the tour of a 
circus company in 
South America, one 
of the specialties 
was a snake-charm- 
er who performed 
with several large 
serpents, beautiful 
in color and propor- 
tion, but formidable 

as to size and temper. Among the collection 

of reptiles were two or three which proved to 

be totally unmanageable on account of their 

enormous dimensions and exceedingly savage 

disposition. It being impossible to handle them 

with safety, they were simply left on exhibition, 

securely confined in large cages of wire netting, 

which were placed one on top of the other just 

outside the ring and near to the entrance, so 

that all who attended might see them as they 

passed in and out. 

It happened one night that, owing to some 

accidental disarrangement of his harness, one 

of the horses became unmanageable just in front 

of the spot where these cages were placed. He 

reared up again and again, and in the intervals 

kicked viciously and plunged about furiously, 

threatening every moment to break the reins by 

which the driver contrived still to hold him. 

As the people became terrified, many jumped 

from their seats and rushed for the place of exit. 

This confusion increased the efforts of the strug- 
gling beast. He reared up madly, and fell back- 
ward against the cages, knocking them over, 

as well as injuring several of the crowd in doing 

so. Instantly the cry was raised, " The snakes 

are out ! " Needless to say, this alarm turned 

the whole audience into a struggling mob. The 

screaming of the women and the shouting of the 

men were so great that the officials and man- 
agers failed to make themselves heard or heeded, 

and in the midst of the uproar the largest of closure by the houses, caused them to reach for 

the great serpents, the fastenings of whose cage their guns and quickly run up the hill. Hur- 


had become undone, glided off through the ter- 
ror-stricken crowd and quickly disappeared be- 
neath the canvas of the tent into the darkness 

It was not until the audience had left that 
the circus people found out their loss. They 
made a diligent investigation of the vicinity, 
but failed to find the snake. Nor did a renewed 
search the next day yield any better result. 

Months after the circus had gone and the 
people had ceased to talk of the episode, I 
happened to be hunting in the mountains some 
twenty miles from the town where the occur- 
rence took place. 

The rainy season not being as yet quite over, 
I generally slept at night in one of a collection 
of palm-leaf huts pleasantly situated on the slop- 
ing hillside, surrounded by small but flourishing 
plantations of maize and bananas stretching 
down from the houses to the borders of a pretty 
lake of several acres in extent. All around these 
plantations and the lake the trees of the great 
tropical forest stood up in an encircling wall of 
solemn and gloomy grandeur. 

Within the preceding month some predatory 
animal had appeared in the neighborhood and 
frequently carried off pigs and goats. What the 
thief was, none could tell, so the mystery of 
these losses caused several of the men to sit up 
at night and watch for his approach. 

The moon was at its full and every leaf plainly 
visible, but for the first and second nights of the 
vigil nothing appeared, and they began to think 
that, after all, maybe the animals had merely 
fallen into the lake and been drowned, or per- 
haps wandered off into the forest. On the third 
night, however, with the full moon shining 
brightly overhead, as the watchers were sitting 
upon an isolated rock looking out over the sil- 
very waters, the sudden squealing of a pig, 
followed by the barking of the dogs in the in- 



riedly they entered the corral, and there, close 
in a corner where a tall banana-tree waved its 
broad green leaves in the moonbeams, was a 
huge serpent securely wrapped around a good- 

gaged upon the ground. When the men drew 
closer he did not offer to move, but only seemed 
to tighten himself more securely on his victim, 
on which his great gaping jaws were fixed with 
teeth embedded in its neck 
close behind the ears. The 
excited men stood over him 
a moment in consultation, 
and quickly decided that as 
he appeared to be so occu- 
pied with his prey there 
would probably be little risk 
in taking him alive. Ac- 
cordingly, one seized him 
around the throat with both 
hands, while the others 
caught him by the body, 
incautiously leaving the tail 
free. Feeling himself thus 
attacked, he at once un- 
loosed himself from the pig 
and whisked himself about 
so furiously that two of the 
men were thrown to the 
ground. But still they held 
on, and, getting a better 
grip on him, were preparing 
to carry him off out of the 
corral when, with another 
swish, he lashed the hinder 
part of his body around the 

The women and children 
were now crowding on the 
fence, the dogs were bark- 
ing furiously at a safe dis- 
tance, and altogether the 
confusion was indescribable, 
every one giving directions 
which nobody could take. 
But the great snake, without 
any adviser, was more than 
a match for them all. He 

(SEE PAGE 717.) 

sized pig and slowly squeezing its life out. An 
enormous reptile he was, without doubt, and 
how long — who could tell? At any rate, the 
pig was almost concealed in his folds, and yet 
a great part of his length was still lying disen- 

hissed fiercely, and every 
instant coiled himself more 
firmly round the tree ; and in spite of their ef- 
forts to keep him straightened out, managed to 
get his body contracted into a number of .r-like 
curves, which gave him considerable advantage 
against his would-be captors. " Pull all toge- 




ther, boys ! " exclaimed old Manuel. " If not, 
he '11 beat us." 

Then commenced the tug of war. Old Manuel 
gave the word, " Heave ho ! " The tree swayed 
with the shock, but the snake was still fixed 
there as firm as ever. Another pull, and an- 
other by jerks, and again the tree shook and 
swayed. " Now for a good one ! " said Manuel. 
They set their heels firmly in the soil and lay 
backward, putting all their weight and strength 
into the effort. This time not only did the 
snake come, but with him came also the tree ; 
for its superficial roots gave way, and banana- 
tree, snake, and men fell together all in a heap, 
one on top of the other. They let go their 
hold, scrambled to their feet, and scurried to 
the gate. The snake was quick to take advan- 
tage of the accident. He shot forward before 
the struggling men had had time to regain their 
feet, and, rearing his long neck over the six-foot 
fence, glided over it as easily as if it were only 
a fallen tree in his forest home. Away down 
the hill he rushed toward the lake, laying pros- 
trate the rank maize stalks as he passed. Swiftly, 
too, he went; for, though they snatched their 
guns instantly to pursue him, still he kept well 
in the lead, and, going over the rocks, plunged 
into the lake below before a single trigger could 
be pulled. He had disappeared, but only for 
an instant ; for soon the long sinuous form be- 
came visible gliding away over the surface of 
the moonlit waters on which he seemed to float, 
buoyed up, as it were, by the very impetus of 
his own velocity. He went directly toward the 
dark wall of forest on the opposite side, but ere 
he had gained its shadows the noise of the rifle- 
shots of the enemies he had left on the rocks 
behind him rang out, and echoed again and 
again among the winding nooks of the forest 
and rock-bound shore. 

All that day I had been away in the woods, 
and now, returning tired from my wanderings, 
had just at that moment sat down to rest and 
smoke on the protruding roots of a giant tree 
growing on the bank over that very part of the 
lake toward which the flying serpent was now 
heading. I heard in alarm the ping of the bul- 
lets that struck the rocks below me. One 
crashed through the branches above, cutting 
through leaves and twigs in its way. Another 

buried itself with a thud in the turfy bank. 
Then came the shots and their echoes to ex- 
plain the flashes I had seen two seconds before 
across the water. Naturally, I shifted my quar- 
ters at once to the other side of the tree, for 
they were either firing at me or at something 
in my neighborhood. Long experience of jforest 
life had made me cautious ; so I sat as still as a 
withered stump in the wind, with ears and eyes 
alert to every rustling leaf, to every blade of grass 
that stirred about me. The reflection of the 
moonlight from the water close by, and the occa- 
sional beams that stole here and there through 
the canopy of branches overhead, made the vari- 
ous objects in the vicinity, the fallen leaves and 
gnarled roots, more conspicuous than they 
would have been farther away from the forest 
edge. Happening to cast my eyes toward the 
water, I saw what appeared to be a great root 
stretching upward from the lake in which it lay 
and leaning against the bank close by my elbow. 
As I looked it appeared to move, and presently 
the end by my side pushed itself in farther fully 
two feet over the bank, and again remained mo- 
tionless. The end of it now lay in a patch of 
moonlight. It was living, indeed, for there 
were the glittering eyes and quivering forked 
tongue of the largest snake it had yet been my 
lot to encounter. His enormous head and neck 
lay right in the light, showing a brownish black 
mottled with yellow markings. Knowing the 
ways of serpent life, the dullness of their senses, 
and the sharpness of their eyes for motion, I re- 
mained perfectly quiet, expecting that he would 
soon be on the move again if only I remained 
unobserved. For a few moments he kept as still 
as death ; not even the sensitive tongue came 
forth to tell that he suspected the presence of 
an enemy : and from this I felt certain that I 
was altogether unnoticed. I longed to capture 
him alive, but was entirely unprepared for such 
a feat, -and, besides, in the position in which he 
lay it would have been impossible for me alone 
to take him, as a struggle of mere strength be- 
tween us might probably result in my having my 
ribs crushed like match-wood in his folds. 
Therefore I prudently determined to wait till 
the morrow, as I felt confident that he would 
remain in the vicinity. Though I could not 
make out exactly of what species he was, yet 




from appearances I thought he belonged to the 
boa family, and might possibly be a water-loving 
anaconda. At last he began to stir. First of 
all, the forked tongue darted in and out trem- 
blingly ; then he raised his head slightly, and 
glided forward very slowly, passing on straight 
into the forest. Though his head had already 

(SEE PAGE 718.) 

disappeared in the bushes beyond, and his tail 
had not yet come up over the bank, his huge 
body filled all the intervening space. I judged 
him to be over twenty feet long. Slowly as a 
snail he crawled on, until finally his tail, too, 
disappeared in the thicket. 

I stealthily took my departure, and soon ar- 
rived at the huts, where the story of his attack on 
the pig, his attempted capture, and his final es- 
cape across the lake formed the only topic of 
conversation among the villagers until far into 
the night. 

When I announced my intention of taking him 
alive on the morrow, the people laughed at 
what they called my foolhardiness. " Had n't 

he already escaped from five strong men, and 
pulled a tree out by the roots, besides ? " " He 
would certainly crush and swallow any man he 
should meet alone," and so on. I was advised 
not to ramble in the woods by myself again lest he 
should make a meal of me. However, I assured 
them that all I wanted was a sack large enough 
to hold him, and I would attempt to capture 
him alive. Old Manuel soon set his pretty 
daughter, Reglita, to work, and from two coffee- 
bags she stitched up the large sack I required. 

Next morning, accompanied by all the men 
in the place, I set out, with the sack, to find 
the snake's lurking-place. It was extremely 
difficult to persuade the men to leave their guns 
at home and believe that one man could do 
what five had been balked at. 

We first of all passed round to that part of 
the lake where he had disappeared. We hunted 
every thicket and peered into every hollow 
trunk, but in vain. Then we returned to the 
waterside, where the bank was high and turfy, 
matted with roots, and overhung with a dark 
canopy of trees and vines covered thickly with 
foliage, stretching far out and dipping into 
the lake beyond. This overhanging bank 
looked down on a piece of sand sloping away 
down to the water's edge, and was hollowed 
out far under an ancient tree that grew gnarled 
and knotty above. Seeing what a retreat this 
would afford, I swung myself down by the 
vines, and as my feet touched the sand, there 
I saw him lying, coiled in a heap, nicely drawn 
in under the arch of roots and well in the shade. 
An African python he was, of the same species 
as one I had brought to England eleven years 
before. He could not have chosen a cooler 
spot to sleep in. The equatorial sun might blaze 
overhead, but he could rest all day long in the 
shadow of the moist bank, and enjoy every breeze 
from the open surface of the lake beyond. He 
was just in the position most favorable for me — 
coiled, with his head well out to the front, and 
clear of roots and branches. My companions 
were, meanwhile, searching for him upon the 
bank above, and I considered it best to leave 
them there, and say nothing to them of my 
finding him, lest they should come trooping 
down and cause him to shift his position. 

Accordingly, I prepared to work in silence 

7 i8 


and alone. So, standing exactly where I was, 
about ten feet from him, I unloosed the sack so 
slowly that I could scarcely be seen to move. 
This slowness was necessary, lest I should alarm 
him ; for the eye of a snake, as is well known, 
though slow to note form and color, is ex- 
tremely alert to any sudden motion. Holding 
the sack spread out before me with both hands, 
keeping it mouth upward, and hanging down 
like a screen to protect my legs from his bites 
in case he should attack, I advanced toward 
him inch by inch. As I approached I could see 
over the outstretched sack that he never moved. 
According as I drew closer my progress became 
yet slower until finally I stood right over him, 
with the suspended sack between us and within 
ten inches of his nose. Then at last did he give 
the first sign of life, running out the quivering 
forked tongue, and pushing forward until its 
delicate black points touched the screen that 
hung between us. He was not alarmed ; so I 
gradually lowered it over him, covering up his 
head and neck so that he could n't see me. Then 
I quietly dropped on one knee, and let down 
the whole sack upon him, almost completely 
covering him up. Noting well where his head 
was, I quickly but gently ran in my right hand 
under the sack, and got my fingers well round 
his throat just behind the jaws. I neither pulled 
him nor pushed him ; neither lifted him up nor 
pressed him down : I simply held him firmly 
but yet withal so gently that he felt no violence. 
All was ready now for the final stroke. With my 
left hand I quickly jerked the sack off his head, 
spreading it full length away before him along 
the sand, and by the same rapid movement 

brought the mouth of it forward, so that his 
head, which I raised slightly at the same time, 
lay now exactly inside the opening. He hissed 
slightly then for the first time. Hurriedly I 
gathered up the mouth of the sack with my left 
hand, keeping his head grasped in my right 
within it. He tried to pull back, but by throwing 
myself well over on the left knee I managed to 
kick him vigorously on the tail with my right foot. 
This made him instantly shoot forward into the 
depths of the sack, which I held well gathered 
up with my left hand, so that he had sufficient 
room to enter but no opening by which to get 
his head out again. My right hand, which had 
held his neck, I pulled away as soon as he began 
to move inward, and now used it to accelerate 
his speed in getting in the rest of his body which 
yet remained outside. I quickened his inward 
retreat considerably by scratching his back, es- 
pecially near the tail, a kind of interference gen- 
erally disagreeable to all members of the serpent 
family. He hurried to draw himself wholly 
within the sack and coil himself near the bottom, 
thus reaching, as it seemed to his reptilian intel- 
ligence, a place cf security from disturbance. 

While he was yet only half in, my friends 
on the bank above discovered me, and craned 
their necks over to see the interesting spectacle. 
But they never uttered a word until the last tip 
of his tail disappeared, when, swinging down by 
vines and branches, they grouped round and 
assisted, with laughter and cheering, at the ty- 
ing up of the sack with a stout cord. 

Upon a stretcher made of two long green 
poles we carefully lifted the captive, and bore 
him proudly homeward in triumph. 



(A Bit of Word-play. ) 

How many bowls to make a boulder ? 
How many shoals to make a shoulder ? 

How many lambs to make a llama ? 
How many drachms to make a drama ? 

How many bats to make a battle ? 
How many rats to make a rattle ? 

How many folks to make a focus ? 
How many croaks to make a crocus ? 

How many quarts to make a quarter? 
How many ports to make a porter ? 

How many fans to make a phantom ? 
How many banns to make a bantam ? 

How many aches to make an acre? 
How many fakes to make a fakir ? 

How many wraps to make a rapture ? 
How many caps to make a capture ? 

How many sums to make a summer ? 
How many plums to make a plumber ? 

How many nicks to make a nickel ? 
How many picks to make a pickle? 

How many capes to make a caper ? 
How many tapes to make a tapir ? 

How many tons to make a tunnel ? 
And how much fun to make a funnel ? 

Justine Ingersoll. 




By Frederick W. Wendt. 

,OOK at that, uncle," said Robert, 
throwing four dozen little films on the 
desk. " I spent two whole weeks taking them, 
and now they are all fizzles." 

" Let me see," answered Uncle George, 
picking up the films and carefully examining 
them. " They are all good, as far as the me- 

chanical process goes. I mean, the exposures 
are right, the focus is correct, and they are well 
developed. But all that is very little to your 
credit; for with the universal focus, the cam- 
era, and not the photographer, regulates a snap- 
shot and takes care of the focus. And the 
photographer to whom you have brought them 





evidently understands developing. They are 
good negatives, and still — you are right — they 
are all 'fizzles.' Why? Let me tell you a 
story, Robert : Once upon a time a lady asked 
a famous painter: 'What do you mix your 
colors with, sir, to obtain such wonderful re- 
sults ? ' 'I mix them with brains, madam,' 
replied the painter." Uncle George looked at 

" You mean, uncle, that I have n't mixed my 
snap-shots with brains ? " 

" Precisely. Let us take a walk, and I will 
show you what I mean."' 

Living near the sea-shore, they had not walked 
very far before they came to a lighthouse. 

" Now, Mr. Photographer," said Uncle 
George, " let me see how you would photograph 
that lighthouse." 

Robert drew his camera out of its case, and, 

without a moment's preparation, " snap " went 
the shutter, and the picture was taken. 

" My, how it wabbled," said Uncle George. 

" What do you mean ? " asked Robert. 

" You will see what I mean when the picture 
is developed. There won't be a distinct line in 
it. Always hold your camera tightly against 
your body with both hands, to steady it ; stand 
perfectly still ; stop breathing for an instant, and 
press the button with your right thumb. Now 
try again." 

" I am going a little farther away from it," 
said Robert. 

Uncle George sat down on the grass without 
answering a word. In a few minutes Robert 
returned. " I held it as steady as a church this 
time," he cried. 

" What were you photographing ? " asked 
Uncle George, with an air of innocent inquiry. 




" Why, the lighthouse, of course." snap-shot with brains.' Not too much plain fore- 

" I am afraid you will find more grass than ground, not too much sky, not too near, not too 

house on your picture. You never thought of ^ far off. Yet the lighthouse should n't 

the grass in the foreground, ^T^^^ st * c k out ^ e a bean-pole with- 

did you? ^^^^^^T-T'vB JE Wt^^ ;)l " am surroundings 

whatever. There 
are trees ; 

When your 

film is developed you 

will see how very impartial 

the camera is. It takes grass-blades 

just as clearly as houses. You forgot 

all about the grass, did n't you ? " 

Again and again Robert tried; but every time 
something or other was wrong. At last Uncle 
George took the camera into his own hands. 

" Now, my boy," he said, " let us ' mix a 


let us work 
those in." Uncle George 
looked into the finder. " Not artis- 
tic yet," he said. " Suppose we get 
a bit of fence and foliage in ; it will 
make the picture look less as if it had been 
done with a chisel and a hammer." 

" It seems to me you are mixing it with 
brains, I must say," exclaimed Robert. 




" We have chosen a difficult subject to prac- 
tise on," replied his uncle. "This, I believe, 
is the best we can do." 

" Click ! " went the " snap-shot with brains." 
And that night the negatives were developed. 

I wonder if my readers will have any diffi- 
culty in picking out the one Uncle George 

Now, my dear young photographer, whoever 
you may be, possibly you are just like Robert 

them as original, but they will do to begin with, 
and they will doubtless suggest others to you. 

i . Water pictures. Stand on a pier about six 
or eight feet above the surface of the water, and 
point your camera at your friend swimming or 
floating below. If your " subject " can swim un- 
der water, and the water is clear, you will in this 
way obtain pretty studies of reflection and refrac- 
tion. Then try to take persons diving and jump- 
ing into the water; but do not be disappointed 
if at the first few trials your films show only a 


in that you have never before realized what a 
"snap-shot with brains" is. You have never 
discovered what your little pocket-camera may 
be made to do when you think before you 
snap. It does not depend so much on what 
you take as on how you take it. Summer is 
here, and on land and water your camera 
can be made an interesting companion. Let 
me suggest to you a few experiments you may 
not have thought of before. I do not claim 

part of the body or the tip of the feet. It is not 
easy to catch a quickly falling object in the cen- 
ter of your picture. 

2. Moon pictures — really setting-sun pic- 
tures. Just before the sun sets the actinic 
rays are weak. You may point your lens di- 
rectly at the sun, without fear of fogging your 
plate. Water is an important factor in a picture 
of this sort, because it shows reflected light. The 
effect, is enhanced by having one or more ob- 





jects in or near the reflected path of light — 
either in the foreground or background. 

3. Lightning pictures. People have Said to 
me : " How can you snap the shutter just as the 
flash comes ? " You don't. You point your 
lens at a retreating thunder-storm — at night. 
Then open your shutter, and leave it open until 
you have caught one or more flashes on the film. 

As it is night, you may 
keep your lens open 
until nearly dawn with- 
out fogging your plate. 
4. A few hours with 
your friend the camera can be made to teach 
you quite as much about perspective and the 
laws of light and shade as many a text-book. 

Hundreds of new ideas will suggest them- 
selves to you when once you have begun to put 
your mind upon what you are doing, and your 
frivolous " snapping " may be changed into a 
most interesting study. Try it and see. 


By E. L. Sylvester. 

Johnny 's not an expert, 
Or else he 'd surely know, 

Phoebe should n't have her hands 
Placed before her, so. 

Phoebe's hands are pretty, 
And small as they can be, 

But in the picture Johnny takes ! 

Well — turn this page and see ! 



By Laura E. Richards. 

Mr. Little, Mr. Small, 
Mr. Short, and Mr. Tall 
Went a- walking out one day 
On the high and public way. 
And they met with Mr. Stout, 
Mr. Grim and Mr. Grout, 
Mr. Swift and Mr. Strong, 
Mr. Light and Mr. Long; 

And they said : " I pray you, say, 

Saw you aught of Mr. Gay, 

Mr, Smart and Mr. Keene, 

Mr. Brown and Mr. Green, 

Mr. Sterne and Mr. Sweet ? 

They would make our joy complete ; 

Mr. Fair and Mr. Bright 
Would be gladsome to our sight. 
And no grief our hearts could ravage 
Had we only Mr. Savage, 
Though, indeed, we still should lack 
Mr. White and Mr. Black, 
Mr. Gray and Mr. Blue, 
Those companions tried and true ! " 

But the others answered : " Nay ! 
None of these we 've seen to-day ; 
But we met with Mr. Priest, 
Who was riding on a beast; 
Mr. Pope and Mr. Prior, 
Mr. Knight and Mr. Squire, 



Mr. Prince and Mr. King, 

Rushing on like anything, 

Hasting after Mr. Sharp, 

Who was playing on the harp ; 

While his uncle, Mr.' Wise, 

Shook his head with groans and sighs, 

Crying loudly : ' No, no, no, boy ! 

Stop and hear me play the hautboy ! ' 

Mr. East and Mr. West, 

Mr. Good and Mr. Best, 

Mr. Grand and Mr. True 

Did illuminate our view ; 

Mr. Hill and Mr. Plain, 

Mr. Field and Mr. Lane, 

Mr. Sand and Mr. Shore, 

Who have hastened on before. 

Come with us, and you shall see 

Mr. Wood and Mr. Tree, 

Mr. Branch and Mr. Flower, 

Mr. Church and Mr. Tower, 

Mr. Castle, Mr. Hall, 

And, the very best of all, 

Friends from whom we ne'er will roam, 

Mr. House and Mr. Home." 

tvvKKOi? SUM 1 . otitic — 

dog: "you certainly have an advantage." 

goat: " how so?" 

dog: "why, these summer showers don't take the curl out of your horns. 


i tO 

; r is a great risk to name a kitten 
anything, for you never can tell 
how the most promising-looking 
one will " pan out," as the miners 
say of their ore. Looks go for nothing. 

This was just what was worrying Mr. Wood- 
nutt's three children. There were four kittens 
to be named, and everybody was afraid to take 
the responsibility of naming them. You see, 
they had had experience to teach them. A 
year or two before, a serious-looking tabby- 
kitten had been named " Tabitha," and had 
turned out a perfect disgrace, both to her name 
and the neighborhood, disappearing, finally, in 
a sudden manner not wholly unconnected with 
the disappearance of young chickens. A play- 
ful jet-black kitten had been named " Topsy," 



and had grown up into a stupid, heavy tabby 
that would hardly run when she was chased. 

So it was suggested, this time, by an older 
member of the family — not the cat's family, 
you understand, but the children's — that it 
might be better to wait until the kittens were 
about half-grown, and had shown some decided 
character or tendency ; but this suggestion was 
not favorably received. 

" Suppose they had called yon ' Thing-em- 
bob ' until you were ten or twelve ; how 'd you 
have liked it ? " said Jack, indignantly. " What 
they need is names, right away, so that they 
may know themselves apart as soon as their 
eyes are open ! " 

They tried to dream names. Jack told them 
how. " Now look here, Mary and Ted ; when 



you go to bed to-night, as soon as you begin 
to be sleepy, say over to yourselves as hard 
as you can, ' What shall we name the kittens ? 
What shall we name the kittens ? ' and ten to 
one we '11 all dream names, and then we can 
draw lots and choose from them all." 

They faithfully tried this, and nobody but 
May dreamed a single thing. She awoke out of 
a nightmare. She dreamed that every creature 
in the Zoological Garden was to have a new 
name, and she was obliged to do the naming. 

But, as it often happens with our troubles, 
the children's difficulty removed itself before 
they could determine what to do. The day 
after the dreaming plan had failed, three of the 
four kittens, to quote Sarah, who had come in 
from the kitchen to make the announcement, 
" turned up missing." Those who had tears 
shed them abundantly; a manly dignity pre- 
vented Jack from contributing, but he ex- 
pressed his feelings in a tender care for " Mary 
Ann," the stricken mother, until, to his indig- 
nation, he observed that if she were really 
stricken she was successfully hiding her sorrow. 
To be sure, she lavished endearments on the 
last of her family, " But she 'd have done that 
anyhow ! " said Jack, contemptuously, when 
May called his attention to it as some excuse 
for Mary Ann. Things certainly were made 
easier for the children by this sad and myste- 
rious dispensation. 

The kitten that was left was rather remark- 
able-looking, they thought : almost all white, 
with two black spots exactly alike on both 
sides of her forehead, which looked like very 
precisely arranged bands of hair. " She looks 
like somebody," said May, in a perplexed tone. 
" If we could only find out who it is, we 'd 
name her that right off, and it would always 
be right — unless she should lose her hair. 
Do cats ever lose their hair, do you s'pose, 
Jack ? " 

" Of course they don't ! " said Jack, loftily, 
but added in a less superior manner, " though 
such a lot comes off on your coat, every 
time you pick one up, that I should think a 
cat would go bald in about a month! She 
does look like somebody, but I can't think 
who it is, either." 

" / know ! " shouted Ted, suddenly. " It 's 
Vol. XXX.— 92. 

mama's picture of Mrs. Ray, the president of 
our Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to 
Animals. She 's got her hair fixed that way, 
you know. It will be appropriate, too, be- 
cause we mean to take the best care of the dear 
little thing." 

" I declare it does look like her," exclaimed 
May and Jack both at once, and May went on 
excitedly: "That 's just what we '11 call her — 
' Lucy B. Ray.' Do you know what the B. stands 
for, Jacko ? " 

" Both," said Jack, gravely. 

"That 's foolish," said May, with dignity. 
" B. does n't stand for either Lucy or Ray." 

" But it does stand for Both," chuckled Jack. 
" Oh, May, it 's the easiest thing in the world 
to catch you ! " 

" Well, I can't help it," answered May, 
calmly. She was too much engrossed with the 
question of the hour to stop to take offense. " We 
ought to know what the B. stands for, to see if 
it 's suitable. Oh, I '11 tell you ! Let 's pretend 
it stands for ' Behaveyourself,' — like as not it 
does, for you know she behaves herself a great 
deal, — and then when Lucy is good we can 
just call her ' Lucy B.,' and when she 's bad — 
of course she '11 be bad sometimes — we can 
say, ' Lucy Behaveyourself ! ' and it will be her 
name and a tiny scolding all rolled into one." 

" That 's not so bad," said Jack, which was 
high praise from him ; and as Ted usually said 
whatever Jack said, the name was at once 
adopted and put into service. 

I do not believe that there was ever such a 
perfect rogue of a kitten as " Lucy Behave- 
yourself Ray " turned out to be. Sarah, the 
cook, was disposed to be kind to her at first, 
partly because she was so small and partly 
because she wore her hair " so nately." But 
Sarah soon found that that kitten belonged 
to the large family of Give-them-an-inch-and- 
they'11-take-an-ell. She was evidently a kitten 
with a turn for logic, for, having seen Sarah 
fill her saucer with milk from a pan, she never 
lost an opportunity to help herself at first 
hand from the pan when it happened to be left 
on the kitchen table ; and it was funny how she 
was instantly lost to sight whenever Sarah 
picked up the broom, even though this were 
done with no thought of kitty in her mind. 




She could be, and frequently was, all sunshine 
and sweetness, playing in the most fascinating 
manner with spools, strings, curtain-tassels, lace 
curtains, " tidies," apron-strings, anything that 
would flutter, or could be made to flutter with 
a little persuasion from her claws. But at the 
slightest approach to a liberty with her long 
black tail those claws would pounce on luckless 
fingers with a quickness that suggested light- 
ning — with this difference, however: lightning is 
said never to strike twice in the same place. 
The children were kept in an uncomfortable 
state of balance between admiration and indig- 

At last Mrs. Ray developed a taste for vaga- 
bondage. When her feelings were hurt by the 
broom, or otherwise, she would " silently steal 
away," the length of the absences varying to 
suit the depth of the wound her sensitive spirit 
had received. Of course, the first time she 
went off the children bewailed her as lost, and 
Sarah said, " Good riddance to bad rubbage 
then ! " But at the end of three days Mrs. Ray 
walked in as if she had only stepped out to 
look at the weather. She had a miserably cold 
and famished expression, and when Sarah, 
thinking to tantalize her, put bread in her sau- 
cer of milk, she ate it greedily, a thing she had 
never before been known to do. Her beautiful 
bands of sleek black " front hair " were all 
rubbed up the wrong way, and had a brown, 
foxy look, which made her likeness to her 
namesake the funniest imaginable caricature. 

A few days of good living brought her 
back, so far as looks went, but it was quite 
evident that she had been depriving herself 
of the comforts and example of a law-abiding 
home. Formerly, her thieving had been only 
on the spur of the moment ; now she seemed to 
watch for opportunities and to do it simply for 
the enjoyment of it, for her spoils were found 
in all sorts of ingenious hiding-places, such as 
the small space behind the bolster in the "spare 
room," the corner of the sofa concealed by the 
sofa-cushion, the linen-closet, Mrs. Woodnutt's 
work-basket, and other places too numerous to 

Of course her life was in constant peril. At 
least twice a week some one said sternly, "That 
cat really must be drowned ; we have put up 

with her too long ! " And the result of this 
remark was always such a flood of tears and 
entreaties from the young folks that she was 
reprieved, " till the next time, mind ! " 

Things were in this unhappy state when the 
time for the annual bonfire arrived. Mr. Wood- 
nutt had rather distinct recollections of how he 
used to feel about bonfires, so he always ar- 
ranged to have the yard and garden raked and 
cleared up for the spring planting on a Friday, 
and then, of course, the bonfire came on Satur- 
day. It was never lighted until just after the 
one-o'clock dinner, and he came home to 
dinner on this festive occasion, and so was on 
hand to see that nothing was roasted other than 
the apples and potatoes and marbles, all of 
which were prepared as part of the ceremony. 
The apples and potatoes were generally highly 
successful, but somehow nobody had ever had 
reason to be proud of the marbles; they came 
out looking a good deal like flat cough lozenges. 

The previous year May had been coaxed, 
without much effort on the part of the boys, 
into allowing them to burn a dilapidated cast- 
off old doll who rejoiced in the name of Jim 
Hutchinson. The success of that sacrifice sug- 
gested, probably, the idea of some similar cere- 
mony as an addition to the annual festivity. 

So about a week before the event of the sea- 
son, May went to Mrs. Woodnutt and asked : 

" Mama, have you about a yard of Canton 
flannel that you could get along without, and 
might we have it, without telling what it 's for, 
for a few days ? It 's a surprise ! " 

Mrs. Woodnutt replied that she thought she 
had at least a yard of the Canton flannel which 
she could spare, and it was given to May at 
once, together with a large needle and some 
strong thread. 

The play-hours of all three of the conspira- 
tors, for some days thereafter, were spent in the 
room over the carriage-house, the weather, 
happily, being mild ; but no one could imagine 
what design was being worked out with a yard 
of Canton flannel, a large needle and thread, 
and the basket of excelsior with which Jack was 
seen carrying up the stairs. Also, on the day 
before the bonfire, Jack bought a four-cent bot- 
tle of shoe-polish, which duly and mysteriously 
disappeared into the aforesaid loft. 




The bonfire day was all that could be de- 
sired. " Clear weather, slightly higher tem- 
perature, rising barometer," predicted old 

The fire was roaring in fine style when a pro- 
cession of three came solemnly out of the car- 
riage-house, where it had immediately before 
retired, for more marbles and potatoes, it was 
supposed. The procession was chanting some- 
thing to a tune which was truly grand in its 
simplicity, being chiefly on one note. Canopied 
with an old carriage-curtain, still black and 
shiny, was a burden of some kind, carried on a 
litter between two of the solemn marching indi- 
viduals. The procession wound its way, with 
numerous unnecessary turnings, which seemed 
to be made for the convenience of the chant, 
to the foot of a tree not far from the bonfire. 
Mr. and Mrs. Woodnutt, led by a natural curi- 
osity, here joined in the ceremony, and found 
that the singers had halted by what looked like 
a very small grave. At this stage of the pro- 
ceedings the carriage-curtain was lifted, dis- 
closing what at a casual glance appeared to 
be a badly deformed black-and-white cat. At 
this point, I regret to say, the solemnity of the 
occasion was broken by Mr. Woodnutt. He 
was very near-sighted, and, looking with com- 
passion at the Canton-flannel and blacking crea- 
ture about to be consigned to the grave, he said : 

"Why, children, why did n't you tell me 
of this ? When did poor Mrs. Ray die ? I 
knew she was missing, but I supposed she 
would turn up again, as she always has ! " 

The children turned their heads away, that 
their smiles might not betray them. They had 
meant this to be a solemn ceremony, and they 
were not going to part with the solemnity if 
they could help it ; but Mrs. Woodnutt laughed 
in a manner quite unbefitting the occasion. 

Then Jack, who was apparently chief mourner, 
and who had carried conspicuously a roll of 
very white paper tied with very black ribbon, 
said eagerly : 

" The best part is to come ! Please all sit 
down around the grave ; I am appointed to 
read the poetry May made about Mrs. Ray 
when she ran away — it was this that started us. 
She 's been gone more than a week this time, and 
something ought to be done about it, and yet 

we did not want to really hurt her — only to 
give her a sort of solemn warning, you know ! " 

Then every one sat down, and Jack, with ap- 
propriate gestures and in his best style, read 
the following poem : 


" My dear Mrs. Ray, 

For a week and a day 

You have not been once at the house ; 

For we 've been very much annoyed by the depreca- 
tions of a mouse. 

You have not been shut up in the attic, 

For you always meow, when you 're there, in a way 
that is quite emphatic. 

You have not been on the roof, 

For you always meow there too, and that I did n't 
hear you meow I consider as a proof. 

You have not been in the barn, 

For I hunted for you there, and if you say that you 
have, it will be a great big yarn. 

And I know you have not been flying about in the air, 

For folks would have seen you, and so I preclude that 
you have n't been anywhere ! 

And if you had lived in old times, and your mistress 
had n't been rich, 

They 'd have arrested you right straight off, and ex- 
permeated you for a witch ! 

But we 're a great deal too fond of you, for all you 're 
so bad, to truly expermeate you, you see ; 

And yet it really seems as if something ought to be 
done, so we '11 expermeate your exfigee! " 

This was followed by a burst of applause. 

Just then a betraying little meow made every 
one look up, and there, on the board seat 
in the apple-tree, sat Madame Ray, beaming 
down on her own funeral-party with all the 
light of her roguish yellow-green eyes. 

" I 'm very glad she 's in time to see — and 
hear, too ! " said Jack. " No, May,"— for May 
was rushing to coax her recreant pet into her 
arms, — "just let her stay up there till we 're 
through ; it '11 be a lesson for her." 

So Mrs. Ray, reclining at her ease on the seat, 
was obliged to see the grave containing her 
counterfeit self filled up. But it did not seem 
to affect her in the least. She was certainly a 
hardened cat. Suddenly she dropped down from 
her perch, and, before any one could stop her, 
fiercely dug up her " exfigee," and began to 
worry it all over the grass-plot, apparently 
under the impression that it was an uncommonly 
large and vicious rat. This proceeding seemed 



to give her such satisfaction that the children 
did not interfere with it. 

" What do you think of it, papa ? " said Jack, 
proudly, evidently referring to the poem and 
not the " exfigee." 

" I could suggest a few verbal and metrical 
alterations," said Mr. Woodnutt, gravely, " but 
the poem is spirited, graphic, and, as a whole, 
deserving of high praise ! " 

Mr. Woodnutt's three children looked as 
proud as Punch, and May said modestly : 

" Would you just tell me about those — those 
alterations, please, papa ? " 

" Suppose I keep it till your eighteenth birth- 
day, my dear," said Mr. Woodnutt, giving her a 
kiss; " and then, if you are still in the habit of 
dropping into poetry, we will scan it together." 

Perhaps you think that after all this Mrs. 
Ray was a reformed cat ? Not in the least ! 
Not once in all her nine lives did she lose the 
need of that middle name " Behaveyourself." 



By Grace Macgowan Cooke. 

Little Bobby Black, 
He 's a-singin' for a snack, 
An' what shall we make him from de meal in 
de sack ? 
Go chunk up de fire wid a piece o' hick'ry 

Mix up de dough, 
Pat it on de hoe — 
An', sinner, did y' ever taste hoe-cake ? 
Oh, sinner, did y' ever eat ash-cake ? 
Ef y' did n't, y' don' know what 's good. 

By O'Ryan O'Bryan. 

" Oh, Evelyn May." 

Said her mother, one day, 
: Your gowns you are outgrowing quite ; 

So far as I see, 

They 're as whole as can be, 
And the colors are perfectly bright." 

Now Evelyn May 

Had her gowns made this way — 
With four tucks running right round the waist. 

The dresses were sweet 

And exceedingly neat, 
With colors in excellent taste. 

Of pinks there were two, 

And one red and one blue, 
And a dainty white guimpe went with each ; 

But she 'd grown up so tall, 

Not a belt of them all 
To her slim little waist-line would reach. 

" Please give them away," 

Said Evelyn May, 
: And of Mrs. O'Callahan's four, 

Surely one they will fit, 

And I do hope that it 
Will be dear little Bridget Lenore." 

'Twas the night before the picnic that the 

gowns were sent away, 
And the girls of the O'Callahans had had a 
wretched day, 
Weeping loud and weeping long, 
And the burden of their song 
Was that not a child among them had a dress 
fit to display. 

When the four had eaten supper and gone 

sobbing up to bed, 
And Mrs. Tim O'Callahan laid down her 
weary head, 
She was wakened from her nap 
By a most tremendous rap 
That, as Mrs. Tim declared, was"loud enough 
to wake the dead." 

At the package handed to her she was very 

much amazed ; 
Then she lifted out the dresses, and her hands 
to heaven she raised. 
" Just look at that," she said ; 
" See the pinks, the blue, the red ! 
There is one for every child, may the saints 
above be praised ! " 

When the gowns were out of pack 
She was taken quite aback 
That their lengths were all the same as they 
lay upon the floor. 
But she took the one of red ; 
" This I 'm very sure," she said, 
" Will just suit my little Bridget, the O'Calla- 
han No. 4." 

Then her eye lit on a tuck. 
" Now if I am not in luck ! 
I can lengthen out another just as quick as 
quick can be." 
So she added inches two 
To the little gown of blue, 
Laid it down beside the other for O'Callahan 
No. 3. 

Seeing that her hand was in it, 
' T was the work of but a minute 



To rip out as many tucks as she thought would 
make it do. 
Thus the pinkest of the pink 
Was let down in just a wink, 
The four inches that were needed for O'Calla- 
han No. 2. 

The last one was so pretty 
It seemed a dreadful pity 
That her daughter Mary Ann was to height in- 
clined to run ; 
" But when all four tucks," said she, 
" Are let out, I 'm sure 't will be 
A perfect fit for Mary Ann, O'Callahan No. 1." 

On the morning of the picnic every child rose 

with the sun. 
How they shrieked with joyous laughter when 
they saw what had been done ! 
At the very stroke of eight 
They went sailing through the gate, 
Little " Bridget L." O'Callahan and " 3 " and 

"2" and "1," 
All ready for the picnic and quite eager for 
the fun. 


By Mary Bradley. 

Deep in the shadow of the wood, 

With somber things around it, 
The little fairy flower stood, 

And a little maiden found it. 
She found it on a dreary day 

When, for some mournful reason, 
The blue sky seemed not blue, but gray, 

And life a lonesome season. 

But when she plucked it from the bed 
Where nothing matched its whiteness, 

The fairy blossom seemed to shed 
A sudden lovely brightness. 

As though it had some happy art 
To reach the springs of gladness, 

It comforted her heavy heart 
And charmed away her sadness. 

The little maiden cherished it, 

And henceforth in her bosom, 
As something dear and delicate, 

She hid the fairy blossom. 
It never lost its subtle charm 

To overcome vexations 
And take the sting from every harm, 

Because its name was — Patience ! 



By Ormsby A. Court. 

Are you the girl or boy who sometimes longs 
for some amusement to while away the hours 
on some dreary day when you had to stay in- 
doors ? Then let me tell you of a play that 
I know of, and after you try it tell it to your 
friends, that they also may know about it. 

First make two flat pads out of flannel, about 
two inches wide and three inches long. Next 
borrow a plump stick of sealing-wax at least 
three inches long. Next take a small piece of 
window-glass, say five or six inches square, and 
the cover of a small tin pail. Then ask mama 
for a piece of old silk ribbon about an inch 

wide and a foot long, and a yard of silk thread. 
Now perhaps mama will burn a match for you 
until nothing remains but the charred stick. 
You will now need a wee handful of sawdust, four 
or five downy feathers, some tiny pieces of tis- 
sue-paper, a large piece of newspaper, and an 
empty egg-shell. To obtain the egg-shell, make 
a small hole in each end of a hen's egg, then 
blow hard in one end, and the contents will run 
out of the hole in the other. Place everything 
on the table, and we are ready for our play. 

Squeeze the ribbon between the two pads, 
and draw it back and forth between them a 




number of times just as fast as you can; then 
place the ribbon against the wall, let go of it, 
and you will notice that it refuses to fall for 
some few moments. Next take a piece of the 
newspaper as large as your hand, lay it flat on 
the table, and stroke it with your open hand 
about ten times. Hold this paper against the 
wall and then let go of it. What does it do ? 
Now warm the paper and one of the flannel 
pads, and stroke the paper with the pad a number 
of times. Again hold the paper against the wall 
and see how much more closely it clings. Try it 
against your cheek. Again warm the paper and 
pad and rub the paper very briskly ; then take 
hold of one corner of the paper and gently peel 
it from the table. What a funny crackling noise 
it makes! — just as sometimes happens when 
you stroke pussy while she is near the hot stove. 

Another very amusing play with the piece of 
newspaper and pad is. to group your wee bits of 
tissue-paper on the table, again heat the paper 
and pad, and, after rubbing the newspaper 
briskly, hold it over the bits of paper. How 
they jump up and down! One would think they 
were having as much fun as you are. While 
we are playing with the bits of paper, let us put 
them in the tin cover and place the piece of 
glass over them. Briskly rub the glass with 
•one of the pads or a piece of silk. How the 
paper dances about, as" if each bit were alive ! 
Now carefully break the burnt match into 
small pieces and put these pieces in the tin 
cover and rub the glass as before. Do they not 
hop about in a wonderful way ? 

Now cut the piece of newspaper as if making 
a paper comb, with the teeth one quarter of an 
inch wide and four inches long. Warm this 
make-believe comb, and with your hand stroke 
it from top to bottom very carefully, lest you 
tear it; then hold it against the wall or try to 
make it stand on its teeth on the table. Is it 
not amusing to see how it acts ? 

Next take a bit of the burnt match, which 
we will call a carbon, and the piece of silk 
thread. Tie one end of the thread very care- 
fully to the carbon and the other to the gas- 
fixture. Now very briskly rub the wax with the 
pads, bring it near the carbon, and watch the 
carbon jump toward it; then gradually draw the 

wax away from the carbon in a straight line or 
a circle. Is it not amusing to see how the car- 
bon follows the stick of wax ? Again rub the 
wax with the pad, and gradually move it to- 
ward the carbon until it touches it, and see 
how comically the carbon acts. As the carbon 
jumps away let the wax chase it. There, did 
you ever see such a wonderful race ? Now 
touch the carbon with your finger — one would 
almost think that it was alive ! 

Next take the sawdust, the feathers, and the 
scraps of paper. First make separate piles of 
each, and then mix them all together. Once 
more rub the wax very briskly, and point it at 
the sawdust, the feathers, or the scraps. Is it 
not a magical wand that you possess ? Such 
fun if you keep the wax well rubbed ! Separate 
the feathers and scraps, and try picking them up 
one by one. 

Next place the egg-shell in front of you, again 
rub the wax with the pad, and bring it so near 
the shell that the shell is attracted toward it, 
then slowly draw it away, and the shell will roll 
after it for quite a distance. Choose a smooth, 
hard surface like a table-top to obtain the best 
results. As long as you keep the wax well 
rubbed the egg-shell will follow it in any direc- 
tion that you please. 

A last experiment, and one that offers quite as 
much amusement, if not more, than the egg- 
shell, is to make a paper hoop about as large 
around as a silver dollar and one half an inch 
wide. Rub the wax well and you will find that 
the hoop will roll after the wax more rapidly 
and more readily than does the egg-shell. This 
is quite an exciting as well as laughable diver- 
sion, and will no doubt be a favorite with you. 

Remember, success depends on how well you 
keep the wax rubbed; if you are careless in 
this respect failure will be the result. Remem- 
ber this also when you are telling your little 
friends what I have just told you. 

I have purposely described these experiments 
as having been performed with simple, home- 
made apparatus. Girls and boys who care for 
something more elaborate will find, in many of 
the better toy-shops, complete sets of apparatus 
for doing these and many other interesting 
tricks with frictional electricity. 


_ — , — : 

By Ethel Parton. 

{See page 766.) 

On the bank of the Hudson River, within a short distance of General Grant's tomb, Riverside Drive, New York, 
on the knoll once known as Strawberry Hill, is a small inclosed grave bearing on its monument this inscription : 
"Erected to the memory of an amiable child. St. Claire Pollock. Died July 15, 1797. Five years of age." 

The child was probably the son of Mr. George Pollock, who is said to have owned large tracts of land in that 
region, but who abandoned the purpose of making his home in America, and returned to Ireland in 1799. 

Towering tomb and hillock low, 
Truth, they are not far apart — 

Child and hero lie below, 

Simple heart and simple heart. 

Century long a-sleeping sound, 
Resting dreamless after play, 

Though the green grass of your mound 
Tossed and whispered where you lay, 

Little neighbor, small and still, 

Sleeping quietly near by, 
While the temple on the hill 

Rose in shining majesty, 

Massy pillar, gleaming roof, 

Folk that gazing thronged the spot, 

Shout of workman, tramp of hoof, 
Clang of hammer, stirred you not; 

Nay, nor when, your peace to share, 
Came the hero borne in state, 

And the cannon-shaken air 
Echoed homage to the great. 

Now, beside the river's verge, 
By the green hill's templed crest, 

Tides may swell and throngs may surge : 
Neighbors twain, ye take your rest. 

Child beloved, yet lonely sleeping, 
Long years lonely in your bed, 

Now you lie in noble keeping 

Where the nation guards her dead. 
Vol. XXX.— 93. 

Finding fit and friendly room, — 
Little grave, forgotten name. — 

Sheltered by that shadowing tomb, 
Safe enfolded in his fame! 

After play-time, after labor, 

While the centuries come and go, 

Neighbor close to little neighbor, 
Towering tomb and hillock low. 


By Agnes Fraser Sandham. 

I wonder how many of my young friends 
have ever been in the French country. I do 
not mean the land beyond the sea, but that 
part of Canada, on the shores of the Lower St. 
Lawrence, populated almost entirely by French 
Canadians ; for there are hundreds of small vil- 
lages between the Gulf of St. Lawrence and 
the city of Quebec in which the English lan- 
guage is but rarely heard. 

The children who inhabit this region would 
be quite an interesting study to those of you 
who have enjoyed all the advantages of the 
education to be found in towns and cities. 

These young Canadians are as hardy and self- 
reliant as the animals with whom they frolic. 
They learn self-dependence from infancy, for 
they are usually so busy that there is no time 
to teach them any pretty baby ways or other- 
wise pet them. 

One summer I accompanied a friend on a 
sketching tour among these quaint, primitive 
little villages, that remind one so much of the 
Norman and Breton villages of old France. 

When down on the beach we had often 
noticed, with some curiosity, the half of an old 
canoe, or dug-out, in which the children used 
to play " boat." We learned that the other half 
did duty as a feeding- trough for the pigs. It 
had been ingeniously sawn in half when too old 
to serve its original purpose. I had sauntered 
down one morning to watch the incoming tide, 
when I was startled by seeing two very small 
children, one a sober-faced boy of six or seven 
years of age, and the other a chubby-faced 
little girl of five, adrift in deep water, paddling 
about in the half-canoe. I was horror-stricken, 
' but I saw at a glance how matters stood. 

The children while at play had unintention- 
ally dragged their " play " boat down to the 
water's edge, and the tide had come up and 
floated them off, and they, all unconscious of 
their danger, were delighted to find themselves 

in real water, and commenced paddling as they 
had seen their elders do. 

As long as they kept the open end of their 
craft out of water they were comparatively safe; 
but what if one of them should happen to shift 
his or her position ! I shuddered to think of 
the consequences. What was to be done ? I 
dared not leave them and go for help ; I must 
not even call for it, for fear of alarming the 
children. I felt rooted to the spot, and looked 
around in a bewildered manner, when I noticed 
a boy strolling up the beach near me. 

Now I had learned to dislike this particular 
boy very much. He was a boy who seemed 
to be perfectly indifferent to other people's 
good or ill will. And yet I can't say why 
I personally disliked him, as I had never 
seen him do anything downright wicked ; his 
pranks I always thought were chiefly the result 
of thoughtlessness. At his appearance the 
children would scatter, while he would beat 
down their sand houses and mud forts. He 
was always ready to provoke a game of fisticuffs 
with any one not older than himself. In fact, 
he seemed to have no friends but the dogs, and 
they followed him everywhere. And this boy — 
Remi Duval by name — was the only creature 
to whom I could turn in this emergency. I at 
once bade him run for help ; but he did not take 
the slightest notice of me, but stood staring 
stolidly out at the children. I again addressed 
him, this time in pleading tones: " Oh, Remi, 
dear Remi, go run, like a good boy, and find 
some one to save poor little Pierre and Marie ! 
See, I '11 give you this," temptingly holding up 
my penknife to allure him. 

Still he heeded me not, but stood gazing out 
to sea, apparently quite indifferent. I was in 
despair; when, all at once, I saw him wade out 
until the water came up almost to his neck. 
Then, with one plunge, he was floundering 
about, beyond his depth. A new horror seized 

73 8 



me. Three children would now perish instead 
of two. But no. Presently I saw this boy, who 
was but fourteen years of age, strike out vigor- 
ously until within reach of the frail fragment 


of the canoe, which he touched gently — just 
enough to give it a movement shoreward. This 
he did at intervals until it was within my reach, 
when, wading out into the water, I quickly 
drew the canoe in, and the children were 

saved without ever having been conscious of 
their peril. 

But where was the brave boy who had risked 
his life to save his little neighbors ? How my 
heart smote me for ever 
having entertained an 
unkind thought of him ! 
Fortunately, he soon 
emerged from the water, 
in a half-fainting con- 
dition ; and as I tenderly 
helped him home, I 
asked : " Where did you 
learn to swim so well, 
Remi ? " 

" I did n't know my- 
self I could do it," he 
replied. " I never swam 
out any farther than 
that buoy, there, be- 

"Well, why did you 
go, then ? " 

" Well, some one 
seemed to keep saying, 
' Go, Remi, and save the 
kiddies,' and I had seen 
my father and the big 
boys do it, and I thought 
I 'd try it." 

But, strange to say, 
from that day there was 
not a better or a more 
daring swimmer along 
that coast than the 
young hero of the half- 
canoe; and, best of all, 
there was no one the 
children more enjoyed 
having take part in their 
games than this same 
Remi Duval, whose first 
noble act of heroism seemed to have driven all 
the unkindness out of his heart, and transformed 
him into the faithful defender of all the smaller 
children from that time forth, whenever or 
wherever they might happen to need him. 


By Agnes M. Watson. 

My grandpapa says, and he surely must know, 
That when to a tall, handsome lady I grow, 
I shall look like my grandma a long time ago. 
" For," he says, when I put on her bonnet and shawl, 
" You 're as sweet as your grandma, though not quite so- tall. 
And certainly grandpapa knows best of all. 


By Hugh M. Smith. 

The Philippine Islands, when more thor- 
oughly explored by Americans, will doubtless 
be found to contain many curious creatures of 
land and water of which nothing is now known. 
Already there has been brought to notice a fish 
which is remarkable for its diminutiveness. 

In 1901, while fighting was still in progress in 
various parts of the islands, officers of the medi- 
cal department of the army stationed at the 
military hospital at Lake Buhi sent to Washing- 
ton by mail a bottle containing about a thou- 
sand specimens of fish from the lake, and some 
cakes made by the natives from the same kind 
of fish. 

Lake Buhi is a beautiful mountain lake of 
southern Luzon, said to have been formed many 
years ago by a volcanic upheaval which blew 
away one side of Mount Iriga and scattered 
lava for miles around. It is reputed to be very 
deep, and, although many hundred feet above 
sea-level, is said by the natives to be influenced 
by the tides. 

These fish at first were thought to be young, 
owing to their small size, but examination proved 
them to be fully grown, as the testimony of the 
army surgeons and the natives indicated. Fur- 
ther investigation showed that there had been 
no description of them in scientific literature 
and that no other known fish was so minute 
when mature. 

It became necessary to give a name to this 
pygmy, and it was the writer's privilege to 
christen it. The name selected was Mistichthys 
luzone?isis, certainly a very long one for such 
a short creature, but nevertheless very appro- 
priate : for the first word means " smallest fish," 
and the second " inhabiting Luzon." By the 
tribe of Bicols, in whose territory Lake Buhi is, 
the fish is called sin-ar-a-pan. 

The largest example of sinarapan thus far 
found is only half an inch long, and the smallest 
is less than two fifths of an inch. The number 
of fish in one pound is about sixteen thousand. 

Curiously enough, this is an important food- 

fish, the most valuable in Lake Buhi. Of course 
it is too small to be caught in ordinary nets, so 
the Bicols let down a piece of closely woven 
cloth and capture a whole school at one haul. 
The fish are placed in wicker baskets from which 


T^w v i i- p ' t ip 



the water drains, and are taken to 
market. The natives greatly relish 
them, and eagerly await the arrival of the fisher- 
men, exchanging three or four potatoes, a handful 
of rice, or a few copper coins for a pint of fish. 
After the fish are mixed with peppers or other 
spices and made into thin cakes, they are dried 
in the sun on leaves, and are ready to be eaten. 
The American soldiers have become very fond 
of this food, and liberally patronize the little na- 
tive restaurants where the fish-cakes are served. 


Not only is this the smallest fish known to 
science, but it is also the smallest back-boned 
animal which has yet been discovered. 


We 're little orphan girls and boys, 
And have such heaps of fun ; 

We all live in a great big house, 
Where we can play and run, 

And from our window on the stairs 
We can see the morning sun. 

In summer-time. they open it 

To let us breathe the air, 
And every morning when we 're dressed 

Our teacher takes us there ; 
It 's much the nicest place of all, 
Our window on the stair. 

I wish all little girls and boys 

Could have a lot of fun, 
As little orphan children do; 

I wish that they could run 
To our big window on the stairs, 

Where they could see the sun. 

Albert Bisrelow Paine. 


ipi , -. -■ ,. 

/■:■>■ ZP*. Ed.-U-.f Uv Edward F.H 

You will recall 
James Russell Low- 
ell's tribute to June, 
which begins with 
those familiar lines : 

And what is so rare as 
a day in June? 

Then, if ever, come per- 
fect days. 

These expressions also linger in our memo- 
ries : " The little bird sits at his door," " The high 
tide of the year," and " Everything is happy 
now." AVe all agree with Lowell that 


everywhere in June there is home-life and hap- 
piness. And what a host and variety of homes 
there are! We find them of many forms and 
down in queer places. 

Perhaps one of the queerest is the home of 
the swifts inside a chimney at the farm-house. 
All day these soot-colored little birds have been 
racing through the air, twittering socially and 
gathering insects for the little ones in the many 
homes down in that big chimney. Perhaps 
there may be as many 


Porcupines feeding on the water-plants and other vegetation. 



as a thousand birds living in one of these large 
old-fashioned chimneys — a bird village in soot 
and smoke. Did you ever see a chimney-swift 
alight on a tree? Did you ever see him alight 
anywhere ? What persistent workers they are ! 

Another family-gathering that interests 
us is that of the porcupines feeding on 
water-plants at the pond-side by 
moonlight. Altogether a family 
of dull-wits we might call them, 
for it would be difficult to find 
animals more intensely stupid. 
But they prize their pond-side 
home, and wander around 
among the shrubbery and 
climb trees in perfect con- 
fidence that no animal * 
can easily drive them 
away from their home. 
The mother porcupine 
made her nest in some 
near-by hollow log. The 






7 * 

little ones, to the 

number of two 

or three in each 

home, were born 

early last month, 

m- and by this time 
are able to go out 
with their mother 
and seek food as she 
Then there is that home 
in mid-air, the nest of the 
Baltimore oriole. The home 
surely looks enough like a hornet's 
nest to deceive a bird of prey. Some 
naturalists regard it as an example of real 
" protective mimicry." Surely the little cry- 
babies in it make noise enough to attract — or 
shall we say to frighten away ? — any bird of prey. 
In marked contrast to this bird-home sway- 
ing in even the slightest breeze is that of the 
kingfisher, in a hole in the solid bank of earth 
by the pond-side. Not far away from this 
bank, down in the deepest water, is the family 
of the bullheads— in some localities called cat- 
fish or horned pouts. How fierce and persis- 
tent is the mother in protecting her little 
ones! In spite of this a little bull- 
head does now and then disappear, 
and some perch swims off less hun- 
gry than before. 




The artist has pictured the hole and nest as they would 
be if the earth on this side had been removed. 


Of the hundreds of little ones that usually make up a cat-fish 
family our artist has pictured only a few. 

Vol. XXX.— 94-95. 






The children in the little stone school-house 
under the hill have been taught to be kind to 
the birds, and when a bad boy pulled down 
the robin's nest from the high window-ledge 
and tumbled the eggs into the vines below 
there were many sorrowful faces. 

Some days later at the noon-hour an eager 
stream of boys and girls poured out of the 
wide door, lunch-baskets in hand, and started 
in twos and threes to eat their dinner. Now a 
brook comes rushing down the ravine through 
stretches of fragrant hemlock, and stays just 
long enough to make a nice trout-pond near 
the school-house. As soon as the girls reached 
their favorite corner, where a fringe of elder- 
bushes hides the water from view, the teacher 
heard a sharp cry as if some one were badly 
hurt, and rushed out to see what was the 

" Teacher ! teacher ! " shouted the girls. 
" Some one has hung a bird in the tree." 

The boys left their ball and the whole school 

gathered round in 
dismay ; for there in 
the bushes hung a 
mother robin, a piece 
of gray yarn suspend- 
ing her by the throat 
to an elder branch. 

"Oh, do look!" 
cried one of the girls. 
" The robin's head is 
bloody and her bill is 
wide open as if she 
could n't breathe." 

One of the boys 
quickly cut away the 
stringwith hispocket- 
knife. The poorbird's. 
breast was still warm, 
but not a sign of life flut- 
tered within. 
"'lV' . Just then one of the children, 

who had been carefully observing 
the bushes, exclaimed : " Why, look 
at that bunch of stuff in the crotch above the 
robin's head ! " And sure enough. It had all' 
happened in the midst of her nest-building. 

Then the teacher pointed to the place where 
the bird had tried to wind part of the skein of 

" For there in the bushes hung 
a mother robin, a piece of gray yarn sus- 
pending her by the throat to an elder branch." 




yarn about the foundations of her home. 
Evidently in her efforts to arrange the 
material she had become hopelessly en- 
tangled, and one loop tightening about 
her throat had hung her to the 
elder branch, causing her death in 
this tragic manner. 

The children buried the bird 
in the school-yard, and there was 
much rejoicing when an- 
other pair of robins came 
and built in the old place 
on the window-ledge. 

W. C. Knowles. 


All young folks who 
love to roam the woods 
and ravines in spring are 
familiar with the dainty lily 
known to botanists as Ery- 
thronium Americanum and 
commonly called "yellow adder' s-tongue " 
or " dog-tooth violet." Gray's and Brit- 
ton & Brown's botanies make no mention 
of the significance of these common names. 
" How to Know the Wild Flowers " main- 
tains that " the two English names of this 
plant are unsatisfactory. If the marking 
of its leaves resembles the skin of the adder, 
why name it after its tongue ? And there 
is little reason for calling a lily a violet." 

" Nature's Garden " says : " They have 
nothing in common with the violet or dog's 
tooth." This book, however, points out 
the appropriateness of the other name. " Who- 
ever sees the sharp purplish point of a young 
plant darting above the ground in earliest 
spring at once sees the fitting application of 
' adder's-tongue.' But then how few recognize 
their plant friends at all seasons of the year!" 

John Burroughs, in " Riverby," refers to the 
plant as " the earliest of the lilies, and one of 
the most pleasing." He dislikes both common 
names, and suggests " fawn-lily " and " trout- 

Regarding the name " dog-tooth violet," 
Albert Douglas of Chillicothe, Ohio, in an in- 
teresting letter to this department, writes: 

If you will take the seed-pod of this lily 
when about ripe, gently split it at one of the 
sutures, and press back the lips, you will 
see at a glance why the flower is so appro- 
priately named. Indeed, nothing could be 
more appropriate. The arrangement of the 
seeds, as you will see, bears a most curious 
and striking resemblance to the teeth 
of a dog when his lips are pressed 
back. . . . Even the name 
sj " violet " is appropriate. 

The blossom has much 
u the shape of a large sin- 

gle violet, but more es- 
pecially does the seed- 
pod resemble that of the 
violet, and "nod" as 
does the seed-pod of the 
' violet. Indeed, I feel convinced 
7 that, all in all, the name cannot 
properly be called inappropri- 
ate. ... I have never seen, 
that I recall, any mention of the 
derivation of the name in any 
botany or elsewhere ; but no 
one having seen it once can 
ever doubt where the plant got 
its name. Neither can I tell 
anything of its origin, except that I have 
been told it is a very old name running 
ack to a similar plant in England. 

For illustrations of the plants 
growing by the brookside, and for 
explanation of the curious bulbs 
deep in the ground, see page 748 of 
Nature and Science for June, 1901. 


Seed-pod of dog-tooth violet split at one of the sutures and 
partly opened to show that the rows of seed and pod resemble a 
dog's teeth and mouth. 

74 8 





P'AR Rockaway, L. I. 

Dear St. Nicholas: I want to tell you about some 
nests and young birds that I have seen this year. One 
day when I was bird-hunting with a friend we saw a 
pair of barn-swallows building a nest in a stable. It 
was most wonderfully constructed. How can the birds 
carry so much mud in their bills to make a nest ? It 
was carefully plastered against a beam, and had a short 
piece of thick cord hanging from the bottom. What 
was that for ? 

We also found a robin's nest concealed in a hedge, 
with two young birds in it. Their feathers had just 
begun to grow. My friend found a worm, and I tried 
to put it in the bird's mouth. At first the birdling did 
not take it, and was very frightened. I again put the 
worm in its mouth, and that time it swallowed it with a 
relish. The other little bird screamed at this most piti- 
fully. So we tried to find another worm, but we could 
not. Later in the season we are going to get the nest 
and bring it to our school. Yours sincerely, 

Dorothy Calmon. 

The bill of the swallow is well adapted to 
carrying large pellets of mud. Straw, grasses, 
bits of string, etc., often extend out of the mud 
in the nest and hang down, as shown in the 
photograph below. 


Dear St. Nich 
OLAS : This is a pho 
tograph of a robin's | 
nest built in a gera- 
nium-pot, found by 
our gardener in the 
conservatory. I am 
sorry to tell you that 
as the young birds 
were hatched they fell 
into the water-tank 
below and were 
Yours sincerely, 
Peggy Palaivet 
(age 10). 



With young in nest nearly old enough to fly. 

This surely is a sad ending of a bird-home. 

Our young folks are invited to send photo- 
graphs of nests in queer places. I have heard 
of a wren's nest in a teapot and of a humming- 
bird's nest on a peach. Who can equal or 
excel these? 


Greenbrier, Tenn. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I have never written 
to you before, but I have seen the interesting 
letters in the Nature and Science department, 
and I thought I would write and ask the name 
of a snake 1 have in a bottle. It is only three 
and a half inches long, but has well-developed 
fangs. It is velvety black on the back and yel- 
lowish pink on the under side. It has a ring 
around its neck which was scarlet but has faded 
to a dull white in the alcohol. The people 
around here say its bite is deadly, and that it 
never grows to be over four inches long. It 
is called here such names as " ground-rattle- 
snake," "rattlesnake guide," "ground-viper," 
and "ground-snake." I caught it crossing a 
road which leads down a very steep and rocky 

I find many curious things about here, and I 
am especially interested in snakes. I 'm glad 
you have this department. It is interesting, as 
ihe rest of St. Nicholas always is. 

Richard C. Phelps. 

Your snake is without doubt a " baby 
snake" ; no species in this country attains 
its full growth at four inches. It is 




probably the young of a very small species of 
ground-snake, known as the red-bellied snake, 
the young of which show a distinct ring on the 
neck, which fades as the snake becomes full- 
grown. The young of the " ring-necked snake," 
to which your description somewhat applies, 
are always distinguished by a brilliant yellow 
under side with a line of square black spots ex- 
actly in the middle of the under side from the 
neck to the tail. 

leaf-cutting bees. 

Deseronto, Ontario. 
Dear St. Nicholas : There is a rose-bush near 
our veranda. I have noticed that bees cut into the 

*S r ' > ' 



bees, like the carpenter-bees, have the talent of 
cutting holes into wood. 

But not all the burrows are in wood. We 
find them in various places — sometimes in 
very queer places. Professor Howard tells us 
that " some burrow into the ground, others 
into soft wood, while others make use of chance 
tunnels. I have seen them in accidental auger- 
holes, and in lead pipe, and once knew the 
nozzle of an old pump to be packed full of 
cells." Professor Comstock states: "The 
leaf-cutting bees do not always bore tunnels in 
which to place their cells. We have found 
leaf-cutting bees at work on a spray of rose-leaves. these cells in a crack between shingles on a 
leaves and then they roll them up in little balls and fly roof, in the cavity of a large branch of sumac, 
away with them. We have tried to find out where the beneath stones lying on the ground, and down 
bees take them, but we have not been able to, so I am { n Florida we found them in the tubular leaves 
writing to ask you if you can tell me what the bees do c ^ riitcher-nlant " 
with the leaves. Hoping that you will be able to tell r „, . r . , , , . , , 

t, ., , , ,, ,° ac . t a ■ I he leaf-cutting bees put several thimble- 

me where they take the leaves, 1 remain, _ ° r 

Gladys Gaylord. shaped cells in a burrow and fill each cell with 
pollen and honey, on which an egg is placed. 
The leaf-cutting bees are near relatives of When the little bee hatches there is food near 
the honey- and bumble-bees, which they closely at hand. The carpenter-bee cuts a hole in 
resemble. They derive their name from the wood and puts in pollen and honey, but does 
habit you have observed, of cutting out bits not use leaf-sections around each cell. 
of leaves for their cells. 
The circular pieces are . 

for the ends of the cells, 1 juII — rw. jw— . 

and the oblong pieces 
for the sides. These 
cells are usually in bur- 
rows cut into wood, for 

SOme Of the leaf-CUtting a section of nest of the carpenter-bee. 





Grafton, Mass. 
Dear St. Nich- 
olas : I want to know 
more about poison - 
ivy. I have heard 
there are two kinds. 
Is this true? Where 
and what is the poi- 
sonous substance? 
Why will the ivy not 
poison some one to- 

hr' Poison! 



day, yet perhaps poison him to-morrow? 
How can it poison people who do not touch 
it but just pass by? Is there no way of de- 
stroying it? Does it poison any besides hu- 
man beings? I have heard it said that rain 
dripping off the leaves makes any berries un- 
derneath poisonous. I can hardly believe 
that. Where in the United States is it most 
plentiful? Why? Where most scarce? Why? 
What is the best thing to do when one is poi- 
soned? I am very much interested in poison- 
ivy because it is so plentiful around here. 
These are a lot of questions, but I hope you 
will answer all, because I want to know. 
Wishing you continued prosperity and suc- 
cess, I remain, your constant reader, 

Caroline C. Everett. 

There is but one kind of poison-ivy 
(known to botanists as Rhus toxicoden- 
dron). This has three leaves. An- 
other climbing, trailing shrub of the same 
general appearance, on walls and rail fences, 
is the Virginia creeper. This is not poison- 
ous and has five leaves. It will help you to 
remember which is the poisonous and which 
the harmless if you picture the three leaves 
as the index hand pointing " go " ; that is, the 
three leaves, representing the three parts of 
the index hand — thumb, forefinger, clasped 

fingers. Regard the five-leaved as the thumb 
and four fingers of the hand opened in wel- 
come. (See illustrations.) 

There is a poisonous shrub, 
poison-elder [Rhus venenata), 
whose poisonous effects are 
similar to those of the poison- 
ivy. This tall shrub, also called 
poison-sumac, is often con- 
fused with the harmless sumacs 
in the same manner that poi- 
son-ivy is confused with the 
harmless Virginia creeper. 
The poisonous principle of 
the poison-ivy and of the poison- 
sumac is non-volatile, that is, it does not 
evaporate into the air as does water. 
Hence it is transmitted only by contact. 
Many young folks, and older ones, too, are in 
error when they claim that they have been 
poisoned by looking at poison-ivy or by passing 
near it. There is no " moisture of the poison " 
or "gas," as sometimes claimed. 
Of course the oil may be 
brushed from the leaves to the 
clothing and then trans- 
ferred to hands or face. 
The oil could not be 
washed by the rain to 



The Invitation 





the berries below in solution, but might possibly 
be driven down by mechanical force in a very 
severe storm ; that is, the beating drops might 
knock off particles of the poison and carry it 
to the berries below. 

For a remedy for skin-poisoning by the ivy, 
make a solution of acetate of lead in 50^' 
alcohol, and rub this on the itching skin until 
relieved. The acetate of lead is itself very 
poisonous if taken internally. Use it only for 
rubbing on the skin affected by the poison. 

Send to the Department of Agriculture at 
Washington, D. C, for free pamphlet entitled 
"Thirty Poisonous Plants." Every one who 
loves to roam in fields and forest should know 
the poisonous plants. It is very fortunate for 
those who are fond of rambling through the 
fields and woods that most of the plants in that 
government list are poisonous only when eaten. 
Nearly all cases of skin-poisoning are from poi- 
son-ivy or poison-sumac. 

It will doubtless surprise many who read 
this pamphlet of "Thirty Poisonous Plants" 

to learn that the lady's-slippers or moccasin- 
flowers are included in the list. A poison- 
ous oil similar to that of poison-ivy is secreted 
in the leaf-hairs, especially at the fruiting 
season. The leaves and flowers of the lily-of- 
the-valley are also poisonous when taken inter- 
nally. The taste, however, is very bitter, so 
no one is likely to eat them. 

The beautiful mountain-laurel is so often 
eaten by sheep, resulting in their death, that the 
farmer calls it sheep-laurel, or poison-laurel. 

catching moles alive. 

Ridley Park, Pa. 
Dear St. Nicholas : Will you please tell me how- 
to catch moles alive and unhurt? I don't know how 
to catch them. Your loving reader, 

Mamie S. Goodman. 

Sometimes the moles may be found out of 
the ground, and then they may be caught in 

any manner most convenient — perhaps in 
an insect-net, about as you would catch a 
grasshopper. Sometimes boys catch moles 
alive right in their hands. 

To catch them from underground, have a 
man or strong boy watch for them with a round- 
pointed shovel. Drive this down a few inches 
back of where the mole is lifting up the earth. 
Throw out at a distance of a few feet the 

The mole engaged in 

his underground plowing. 

You can watch his progress in 

making the new tunnel by the lifting of the earth. 

shovelful of earth with the mole in it. Then 
catch the mole by a net or otherwise, as may 
be most convenient. 

Boys sometimes dig a deep hole right in the 
burrow. Have the sides straight. The mole 
goes along its tunnel and tumbles into this 
hole. The mole cannot get out, because the 
earth at the bottom is too hard for him to dig, 
and he cannot climb up the perpendicular 
sides. Perhaps some of our young folks have 
found some trap or method more convenient 
than these. If so, please tell us about them. 

In the winter the mole does his digging at 
an astonishingly low depth to avoid the frost, 
sometimes as much as four feet. In June you 
can find the burrows about three or four inches 
below the surface. The mole is a persistent 
worker except when he is asleep. He is our gen- 
uine miner — sleeping and working in darkness. 



( Winner of Former Prizes. ) 

His path is full of roses every day 

Who seeks them there. 
He finds, who looks for briers on the way, 

Thorns everywhere. 
Thorns have no beauty, but living pain alway : 

Roses are fair. 

For each good thought that lies within one's breast 

There blooms a rose ; 
For every bitter thought that there finds rest 

A brier grows. 
Mind not a stony way. On rough paths best 

Showeth the rose. 

Perhaps never in the history of the League has the 
average of good contributions been so high as this 
month. It has been al- 
most impossible to judge 
fairly of the merits of the 
character sketches offered 
in the prose competition, 
and the editor feels that a 
little later it will be well 
to repeat the prose title 
"My Favorite Character 
in History," so that some 
of the excellent sketches 
on Roll of Honor No. I 
may have another chance. 
Meantime we will have 
" My Favorite Episode 
in History," which we 
feel sure will please the 
history-loving ' League 
members, of which there 
seem to be a great many. 

What has been said of 
the prose is likewise true 
of the verse competition. 
There were very nearly 
fifty poems not used, 
owing to lack of space, 
which were really entitled 
to publication. The au- 
thors of these should feel 

very much encouraged, " from nature." 


even though their work is not to appear in print this 
year. Next June we will try to have "The Rose" as 
our subject again. 

Indeed, it may be said that the young authors and 
artists of the League are coming so near the line that 
divides amateur from professional work that the line in 
many places seems to have disappeared, and it would 
be quite easy to place some of the League work in the 
body of the magazine, without the contributors' ages, 
and have it accepted by the most exacting reader as the 
finished work of the skilled workman. Surely we are 
to be congratulated upon our progress! 


In making awards, contributors' ages are considered- 
Verse. Gold badges, Hilda van Emster (age 16), 
605 N. Birney St., Bay City, Mich., and Mary Clara 
Tucker (age 13), 117 17th Ave., Maywood, 111. 





Silver badges, Beulah H. Ridgeway (age 13), 574 
Carlton Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y., Katharine A. Page 
(age 12), Teaneck Road, Englewood, N. J., and Marie 
L. Kurz (age 9), 22 Robinwood Ave., Lakewood, O. 

Illustrated Poem. Gold badge, George W. Cronyn 
(age 14), 840 E. 141st St., N. Y. City. 

Prose. Cash prize, Edith Emerson (age 14), 817 
E. State St., Ithaca, N. Y. 

Gold badges, Pauline K. Angell (age 17), 414 Che- 
mung St., Waverly, N. Y., and Kathleen Carrington 
(age 15), Riverhead, L. I. 

.Silver badges, Mary E. Hatch (age 13), 668 Wash- 
ington St., Brighton, Mass., Josephine W. Pitman 
(age 12), 208 Pleasant St., Laconia, N. IL, and Robert 
"iiindley Murray (age 10), Stanford University, Cal. 

Drawing. Gold badges, Frances Keeline (age 14), 
618 S. 7th St., Council Bluffs, la., and Edgar Pearce 
(age 17), 1538 Willington St., Philadelphia, Pa. 

Silver badges, Dorothy Sherman (age 15), 17 Sum- 
mit Ave., Mt. Vernon, N. Y., and Lester Ross (age 12), 
Avon, 111. 

Photography. Gold badge, John S. Perry (age 15), 
2 1 10 19th St., Washington, D. C. 

Silver badges, T. Sam Parsons (age 14), Troy, 
Pa., and Tracy S. Voorhees (age 12), Bishop PI., New 
Brunswick, N. J. 

Wild-animal and Bird 
Photography. First prize, 
Norman W. Swayne (age 
17), West Chester, Pa. 
Second prize, Ralph W. 
Howell (age 16), Coats, 
Kan. Third prize, Rosa- 
mond Sergeant (age 14), 
Hawthorn Road, Brook- 
line, Mass. 

Puzzle-making. Gold 
badges, Vashti Kaye (age 
15), Calmar, la., and W. 
N. Coupland (age 15), 8 
Thorncliffe Rd., Clapham 
Pk., London, S. W., P2ng. 

Silver badges, Walter J. 
Schloss (age 16), 230 W. 
138th, St., N. Y. City, and 
Dorothy Fay (age 13), 52 
Marlboro St., Wollaston, 

Puzzle-answers. Gold 
badge, Laura Dow (age 
15), 333 Farnesworth Ave., 
Detroit, Mich. 

Silver badge, Marion B. 
Gifiord (age 13), 185 Davis 
Ave., Brookline, Mass. 



{Gold Badge.) 

While warbles soft the songster' in the springtime, 
And fragrance fills the woodland far and nigh, 

How glad are we, late in "the wondrous sing-time," 
My rosebud friends and I. 

The rose unfolds ; and comrades are we ever, 
While happy is the light- winged butterfly; 

True friends indeed, and nothing can us sever, 
The half-blown flow'rs and I. 

When June-time brings the perfect, golden weather, 
And poise the bees beneath the azure sky, 

Day after day we muse and dream together, 
The roses fair and I. 

Fast speeds the summer, and, a drowsy wooer, 
There lies a stillness deep o'er glade and glen ; 

The last late roses fade ; my friends are fewer, 
But dearer far than then. 

Sad wails the wind as for the flow'rs he 's weeping; 

Beneath a cold, cold drift of snow they lie. 
I grieve not, for my friends are only sleeping — 

My friends of days gone by. 

Now sings no robin o'er the silent heather, 
To soothe them with a gentle lullaby ; 

Some day, perhaps, some day we '11 sleep together — 
The roses dear and I. 



(Cash Prize.) 

It has always been said that to judge fairly of the 
life and character of some famous historical man or 
woman, one must take into consideration the age and 


country in which he or she lived. Environments and 
circumstances have such an important influence toward 
the molding of ideas. But Joan of Arc's life history 
is exceptional in this particular. By the standard of all 
ages she remains perfect. Her actions were influenced 
by no personal motive, but by purely religious and 
patriotic enthusiasm. She was honorable when people 
in the highest stations had forgotten the very existence 
of honor ; delicate and loyal when it was the common 
practice to be coarse and false, to keep no promises, 
and to espouse no cause except for love of money or 
personal advancement. She was truthful when almost 
everybody lied, unselfish and refined when many were 
hard, selfish, and given to sinful luxury. 

Many have called her fanatical. If absolute devotion 
to one's God, one's king, and one's country, regardless 





And what is more pleasant in bright 

summer hours 
Than to gather the roses from nature's 

green bowers? 
We '11 enjoy each bright day of our 

beautiful June, 
And regret that it passes away far too 


The months onward roll and the time 

flies away, 
And soon once again dawns the bright 

summer day ; 
But, though cold winds blow chill and 

the summer fast goes, 
We still shall remember thee, month 

of the rose. 



{Silver Badge. ) 
In the old-fashioned garden at grand- 
Grow the loveliest roses of all— 
Thecrimsonand yellow and whiteones, 
Climbing over the old stone wall. 

of self, asking no reward, can be called fanaticism, let 
us have more such fanatics! Her military genius was 
remarkable. Generals of long experience regarded her 
schemes of attack with great respect, and she is the only 
person in the world, of either sex, who has ever had 
supreme command of the forces of a nation at the age 
of seventeen. 

In spite of all her devotion and heroic struggle, her 
dastardly king deserted her ; did not even make one 
attempt to rescue her, but left her to her horrible fate. 
Her captors wore out her physical strength by long, 
tedious examinations and cruel imprisonment, forced 
her to sign a foolish confession of sorcery, an 
then broke all their promises and burned her — 
Joan of Arc, the deliverer of France, though 
only a child in years — at the stake! Such 
ingratitude and cruelty is incompre- 
hensible ; but her name will go down 
through countless ages, while they will 
be known only as the murderers of the 
loveliest character in history. 



{Gold Badge.) 

Hail to the beautiful month of the rose! 
Too slowly it comes and too quickly 

it goes. 
And who will deny that the rose is the 

Of all the fair flowers that ever were 


And oh, their smell is much sweeter 

Than any other at all, 
Only because they 're old-fashioned 

And were grown on grandmother's wall. 



{Gold Badge.) 
When I was a little girl my favorite character in his- 
tory was George 
Since then 
I have 


When butterflies flit from bower to bower, 
And the bees gather honey from many a flower, 
And the songsters ring out their melodious lays, 
Ah, then are the brightest and happiest days! 

We welcome thee, month of the roses so sweet, 
And thy coming we gladly and eagerly greet ; 
Thou 'rt fairest of all the fair months of the year, 
And we love thee, though but a short time thou art here. 


AGE 12. 

had many favorite ones, but I think the one I really 
like now is Abraham Lincoln. I will try to tell you 
about the different statesmen I admired during my 
childhood days. 

My first, as I have already said, was George Wash- 
ington, and I was never tired of reading stories in 
my little history about him. The popular one about 
the cherry-tree, if I remember correctly, always gave 
me the greatest of pleasure in reading it. My second 




one was Thomas Jefferson, and I admired him greatly 
until one Washington's Birthday when flags were flying 
and horns were tooting. 

Then, in a burst of patriotic fervor, I declared my- 
self forever true to Washington. 

However, this did not last very long, for, as I read 
more and more in my history's pages, I became con- 
vinced that Andrew Jackson was really my favorite. 

Happy is the child who loves stories. I always was 
happy whenever I heard stories from my little history, 
and I always liked the ones about Old Hickory, as I bliss- 
fully called him. Many a time in the school-days gone 
by I have stood up for my favorite in the disputes about 
history with a fervor certainly worthy of my cause. 
Dear hero! may our country have another such stanch 
supporter as you tried to be! 

Though I love every one of my heroes, as I call them, 
I think I like my last one just a little better than the 
rest. It is Abraham Lincoln, as I have already said, 
and he is and always will be my favorite character in 



{Silver Badge.) 

Peeping from a window, 

What do you think I see ? 
Why, a pretty rosebud 

As sweet as it can be. 

And a lovely butterfly, 

In color black and gold, 
Flits around the rosebud 

Like a robber bold. 

Sipping honey from it, 

Feeling proud and great, 
Just as when in springtime 

Robin finds his mate. 

In evening after sundown 
My butterfly goes to sleep 
In the petals of the rosebud 




'■■■ V ^S 

f mff 

^Jez sp 










v j ' 





\'i ' } : 

| | 

■ \ \f\4 \/> ■: ■■■■ 

f. ■>/. / ■*>. y / ■■ 

mm\ • 

■ )% t v ,-■ \\ y 

\ m f v . ,.-•■■ 
■&* im i/ 1 ; 

Till dawn begins tocreep. "opossum.' 





(AGE 13). 
{Silver Badge.) 
ROSES, roses everywhere 
In the merry month of 
On the perfume-laden air 
Conies to us the song- 
bird's tune. 
Roses by the castle tall, 
Roses by the crumbling 

Roses, roses now for all, 
Roses everywhere! 

Roses red and roses white, 

Pink and yellow, too ; 
Red ones for the brown-eyed girls, 

White ones for the blue. 

Roses blooming by the way, 

Brought to us by sunny June: 
Oh, enjoy them while you may ; 

Winter comes, alas! too soon. 
Roses sweet beyond compare, 
Roses for the pure and fair, 
Roses here and roses there, 

Roses everywhere! 

Roses red and roses white, 

Pink and yellow, too ; 
Red ones for the brown-eyed girls, 

White ones for the blue. 





{Gold Badge.) 

Oh, what a book! The twilight deepens. I bend 
my head lower and lower over the fascinating pages 
until the words blur and seem to fade away. Reluc- 




tantly I lay the volume down 
and, slipping low in my chair 
with head thrown back on 
my clasped hands, gaze into 
the flickering fire. 

What a book ! My cheeks 
still burn with the excite- 
ment of it all, the chivalry, 
the romance, the splendid 
deeds of bravery. Oh, to 
have lived then, when 
knights sought adventures 
in the dark, uncanny for- 
ests ; when hardest tasks 
were accounted as naught if 
by their performance was 
won the favor of a princess 
or the esteem of some court 
lady whose beauty defies 
portraiture ; when the high- 
est did not scorn to labor in 
disguise that he might win 
his lady-love ; when hearts 
were courageous, affections 

true, and 't was a joy to be alive! Before me, in the 
leaping flames, I see a brilliant pageant. Gorgeous ban- 
ners are floating above the sun-burnished helmets of 
steel-clad knights. The multitudes are exulting in the 
prowess of their loved sovereign, and he, that noble 
king, so brave, so true, so manly, the mighty ruler of 
the ancient Britons, is graciously receiving their homage. 

A slight puff of wind, and the restless flames blow 
aside, disclosing what appears to be a council-chamber. 
Again I see the honored king, surrounded by his 

ifQn o. summer's -mcjbTTa faivf Sprite^ 
'JJtwcea. m o. s//var> bourer. 
'0rr a -iiiojbT.rb Ibe moovs 

sofr j« s bTT 

jHSfi JeJT ni love ujith a Jjouj-er. 
! fj8$e'- -urooed. bev Torig ,voittT"a \oMJ 
5 onC) , 

Jrfe d-ovriced. cvnd. bisbeo.rTuro.s 

JHe wooed, her Jo-nc},* bis Jove 
-uj-ois slro-QQ , 

tf Yie'ei- avjJorcL did sbt Stt>. 
\ Jo-ncj mcj'hnriroj^uieerfione/ 4eiB 
bis JoveTbl rose be, broixjbl-, 

IMne lone, vvigriilrfrO^did be dariceinjJco 
JJ-uTTfie rose she &-rrsuje™iCl TKVUgft'T; 
'fl£)p*lbe morn dreur rii^h'^'weasTfrii sKy 

rjfYHl>e"5ur) MM& bigr^ 

J».fd. of approo-t 

$L Ihejnor-T, dh 



knights, that wondrous band of men renowned in 
song and story for courage, might, and purity, and he 
their example, their incentive to nobler effort. 

Great, good King Arthur! To have been of thy 
court were a joy almost past the very wishing. 

A rustle and movement on the hearth, as of a gentle 
sigh. The embers fall ; a flare of light, followed by a 
train of sparks. My glowing picture has faded. 

Long since thy magic sword hath vanished beneath 
the waves of the enchanted lake, with the hand which 
r <y* gave it thee ; long since the dusky barge hath 
borne thee hence : but thy deeds, brave Ar- 
thur, still live in the hearts of those who love 
the glamour and romance of the days of old. 



( Winner of Fonner Prizes. ) 
Sir Hugh he was a gallant knight, 

And loved the Lady Ethel gay. 
A red, red rose he gave to her 

Before to war he rode away ; 
Bright as the sun at the daylight's close, 
Fresh and sweet, was the red, red rose. 

'This rose shall brightly bloom," said he, 
"While lasts my love, O lady dear," 
And so he hastened off to war ; 

And ever through the weary year, 
Bright as the sun at the daylight's close, 
Fresh and sweet, was the red, red rose. 

Then came a knight in frightened haste ; 
" Sir Hugh," cried he, "is slain in war!" 
And Lady Ethel's cheek was white, 
But glowing deep as e'er before, 
Bright as the sun at the daylight's close, 
Fresh and sweet, was the red, red rose. 

With grief and woe and deep dismay 
They sadly laid Sir Hugh to rest ; 

But Lady Ethel, calm was she, 
For glowing ever on her breast, 

Bright as the sun at the daylight's close, 

Fresh and sweet, was the red, red rose. 





{Silver Badge.) 

There are so many interesting people in history, I 
think it very hard to tell which I like best. Several 
years ago we studied Ulysses S. Grant. It seems to me 
that when a boy he was more like our boys than Wash- 
ington, Lincoln, and many other great men of history. 
Washington was a model boy, Lincoln very studious. 
Grant was neither : he was very mischievous, and 
cared no more for study than the 
boys of nowadays. 

Many amusing stories are told 
about his boyhood. One day, when 
Grant was walking up and down in 
front of his house in his full uni- 
form, a stable-boy near by came 
marching up and down in front and 
then in back of Grant, wearing a 
ragged shirt trimmed with brass 
buttons and trousers with white 
tape sewed to the seam. This 
taught Grant a lesson : he was never 
seen putting on airs again. 

When, in his later years, he was 
slowly dying, he was so patient and 
busy working on his Memoirs to 
pay his debts. I think it was then 
that he showed his greatest courage 
— far more than in any battle he 
ever fought. 


(AGE IO). 

In fair June's budding garden 

I wander free from care, 
Where bloom most lovely flowers 

'Mid ribbon-grasses there. 

The stately lily's splendor, 
The tulip's crimson hue, 

I see, but they 're not lovely, 
My roses dear, as you. 

Oh, roses, bloom and flourish 
The lovely summer through ; 

No other garden flower 
Is half as sweet as vou. 

'sketch from life. 

AGE 15. (SI! 


{Silver Badge.) 

Daniel Boone lived in a log cabin with his brother. 
He got food by hunting and fishing; he was very brave, 
and was in the Revolutionary War. The British called 
him the swamp-fox, because they could not catch him. 
He stayed there awhile, until the powder and shot began 
to give out ; so Daniel's brother went north, for they 
were living in Kentucky, to get some powder and shot, 
and left him there all alone. 

One day he was out on a walk, and some Indians fol- 
lowed him up. They had been skulking around the 
log cabin for a long while and wanted to kill him. 

Daniel saw them following up his footsteps, and he 
tried not to make any; but he could not help it. At 
last he came to a steep precipice, and there were lots of 
grape-vines hanging from the trees, and he caught hold 

of one and swung himself out over the precipice, and 
then let go. He shot out over the precipice, and when 
he reached the ground he had left no tracks behind him. 
Then he turned around and went home, safe from the 
Indians, because they could not find his tracks. And 
after a while his brother came home. I think he was 
very brave to stay all alone where there were Indians. 



Roses bloom in summer-time, 
In winter they are dead, 

In spring they are not seen at all 
In autumn go to bed. 

I like the lovely pink rose, 
Although I 'm fond of white; 

I do not like the red rose, 
Because it is too bright. 

I like the fragrant roses ; 

Oh, is n't this one nice? 
And is n't that a beauty? 

I believe I '11 kiss it twice. 


{Silver Badge.) 
My favorite character in history 
is Abraham Lincoln. He was born 
in a log cabin at Nolin's Creek, 
Hardin County, Kentucky, Febru- 
ary 12, 1809. The cabin had no 
door, nor any windows. To keep 
out the rain and snow, skins of ani- 
mals were hung across the doorway 
and the openings left for windows, 
yet the snow blew through the crev- 
ices of the unplastered walls. 

Abraham's mother was a woman 
of unusual force of character, and 
helped him in many ways. In the 
evening she would tell her children 
Bible stories, and teach them how 
to live sweet, noble lives. 

Sometimes a preacher would 

come to Little Mound and hold 

services. Abraham, five years old, 

on returning home, would preach 

a sermon of his own, holloing in imitation of the 

preacher, and pounding the table with his little fist. 

His mother died when he was nine years old. She 
was buried without a religious service. This so cut 
Abraham to the heart that he wrote to the Rev. David 
Elkin, one hundred miles away, arid asked him to come 
and preach a funeral sermon. He came, and friends 
gathered around the newly made grave while the service 
was held. 

When Lincoln was a boy he wrote these lines in his 
arithmetic : 

Abraham Lincoln 

His hand and pen ; 
He will be good, 

But God knows when. 

In 1831 he went to New Orleans. While there he 
saw some slaves cruelly beaten and maltreated, and per- 
haps this helped to form some of his firm ideas con- 
cerning slavery. 











P ' 



When he was about twenty-two years old he was em- 
ployed as clerk of an election board, and from that time 
he began to become a leader among the people. 

In 1837 lie moved to Springfield, Illinois, and began 
the study of law, which he practised successfully until 
1846, when he was elected to Congress. 

He rose in the public esteem, and in 1861 was 
made President of the United States. 

One month and ten days after en- 
tering on his second administration 
he was shot at Ford's Theater by 
John Wilkes Booth. 

Charles Carlton Coffin has said of 
him: "Like the snow-clad summit 
of the loftiest mountain, gleaming in 
its distinctive grandeur, shall he shine 
with stainless whiteness and eternal 



The roses now are blooming 

In their dresses, sweet and gay ; 
They brighten up the garden 

On a warm, sunshiny day. 

The roses now are blooming 

In the sunshine, in the shade, 
To make a long walk shorter 

For a tired little maid. 



Big brother Jack slammed his book 
together, and, dropping it, turned to 
the little girl lying curled up on the lounge with a vol- 
ume of St. Nicholas in her hands. " Say, puss," he 
called out, " you 're always reading history. What 
character do you like best? " 

" Alfred the Great," she drowsily replied, and went 
on reading. She had been nearly asleep, this little 
maid, and when Jack finally piled his books on the table 
and went out she continued reading and dreaming. 

Gradually the book and lounge seemed to fade away, 
and suddenly she found herself by the side of a tall man 
in the midst of a deep forest. 

The tall man in peasant costume looked down at her 
kindly. " I am Alfred," he said. " People called me 
Alfred the Great. I was glad to hear you say that you 
were fond of me. So many children do not even know 
there was such a person as Alfred. 

"This," he told her, "is the forest in wdiich I hid 
when the Danes were pursuing me night and day. 
There," pointing through the trees, " is the site of the 
cottage where I abode for some time with a good 
peasant and his wife. 

" Little maid, I was born in Berkshire, in this beauti- 
ful England. Once I stayed at Rome with my god- 

father, Pope Leo IV. When at home I learned to ride 
and shoot, but in the evening I lay at my mother's feet 
and listened to deeds of my forefathers. 

" I became king at twenty-three, and immediately my 
trouble began, for the Danes came and tried to 
tyrannize over us. Then it was that I hid in the forest. 

" At one time I went into the Danish camp as a min- 
strel. I stayed two or three days, playing to the king 
and his soldiers. Then I led my men against the Danes 
and vanquished them. 

" For a while after this England enjoyed peace. I 
tried to make my people happy instead of warlike. I 
tried to give them good schools, and to establish religion 
and honor among men, and I hope I succeeded." 

Suddenly the forest faded away, and the little girl 
found herself again on the lounge, with mischievous 
Jack peering in and inquiring if she had had a good nap. 



My favorite character in history is 
William McKinley ; that is probably 
because I knew him. I lived in the 
McKinley home the first four years 
of his Presidency, and so I knew the 
old house from top to bottom, and 
kept it fresh in my memory by fre- 
quent calls on Mrs. McKinley. 

Our old play-room was the Presi- 
dent's office, and I knew the corner 
where he often sat at his desk. And 
that proved useful one October's night 
a few years ago. It was Hallowe'en. 
Some of the neighborhood children 
and I crept quietly around the house 
to the office window ; then we sud- 
denly began throwing corn and call- 
ing: "What 's the matter with Mc- 
Kinley? " etc. 

In a few minutes he and Mrs. Mc- 
Kinley came out on the porch, and 
then we did make a noise. 

There were about twenty of us, and 
we were chaperoned by my seven- 
teen-year-old brother, who had the 
pleasure of carrying my pumpkin-face 
most of the time ; it was too heavy for me, but I had 
it then. I was up in front, with my foot upon the step 
on which Mrs. McKinley was standing, holding it on 
my knee. 

Mrs. McKinley looked at it a minute, then asked: 
" Do you think that looks like my husband, Dorothy ?" 
Then we all laughed, and some 
one called, "Speech!" and the 
President made one. I don't re- 
member what he said, but I do 
remember it was the best speech 
I ever heard. 



{Illustrated. ) 

There are roses in our garden 
Through all the summer weeks; 
But mama says through all the 

Are roses in my cheeks. 







Queen of the roses, and queen of the spring, 

Is Rosetta, a fair little maid. 
All night long does she merrily sing 

And dance in the forest glade. 

She dances at night, in the moon and star light, 

She sleeps in a rose-bush by day. 
Her hair it is brown, and her eyes they are bright, 

And she never grows old or gray. 

And if you go near to her fragrant repose, 
Where the roses grow thorny and tall, 

And if you should pick but a single red rose, 
Into deep slumber you '11 fall. 

And you will not wake till the revels begin, 
And the fairies are seen at their play ; 

And then you will rise from the slumber you 're in, 
And dance with the fairies till day. 



As there are many good and wise men that have 
helped to create this great nation, there is a great num- 
ber to select from as which one you would hold as your 
favorite character in history. As to my favorite, I se- 
lect George Washington. 

George Washington, the father of his country, was 
born in Westmoreland County, 
Virginia, February 22, 1732. He 
was honest in his youth as well 
as in his manhood. At the age of 
sixteen he was made surveyor of 
a large tract of land in Virginia, 
and at the age of twenty-three he 
was commander-in-chief of all the 
Virginia forces in the French and 
Indian War. 

With the close of the war he 
married Mrs. Martha Custis, a 
wealthy widow, and settled down 
at Mount Vernon, living for 
twenty years the life of a Southern 
planter. He was several times a 
member of the Virginia legislature 
and a member of the Continental 

After the battles of Lexington 
and Concord, Congress unani- 
mously selected him as command- 
er-in-chief of the army. He as- 
sumed command 1775, and his 
courage and endeavor to keep the 
army together brought the war to 
a successful end in 1783. After 
the war he retired to his home on 
the Potomac. 

When the convention met in 
Philadelphia, in 1788, to frame 
the Constitution, he was its presiding officer and ap- 
proved the Constitution ; and when the time came to 
elect the first President, there was only one choice of 
the country, and Washington was unanimously elected 
the first President of the United States in 1788. He 
was reelected unanimously in 1792, but declined an 
election in 1796. 

He made his farewell address September 17, 1796, 



and retired to his Mount Vernon home, where, after a 
few years, he died, December 14, 1799. France mourned 
his loss as a son, and America felt as though the shaft 
of death had pierced the nation's heart when the grave 
closed over their chieftain : " First in war, first in peace, 
and first in the hearts of his countrymen." 



Benjamin Franklin, one of 
the most famous men of American 
history, was born in Boston, Jan- 
uary 17, 1706. 

His early education was poor, 
but when he became a young man 
he deprived himself of some of the 
actual necessities of life in order 
to obtain books with which to 

At twelve years of age he was 
apprenticed to his brother James, 
a printer. After a time he com- 
menced writing anonymous ar- 
ticles for his brother's publica- 
tion, tucking them under the door 
at night. At length a dispute 
arose between him and his bro- 
ther, and Benjamin ran away to 

Here he remained as a printer's 
apprentice for nearly a year, when 
he was sent to London on an er- 
rand for the governor of Pennsyl- 
vania, which turned out to be a 
fraud, leaving Franklin to shift 
for himself in the great city. He 
worked as a printer there for two 
years, when he returned to Phila- 
delphia, which he made his home 
for the remainder of his life. 
It was in Philadelphia that " Poor Richard's Alma- 
nac " was published, and where the Franklin stove and 
the lightning-rod were invented. At the age of 
twenty-four he married Deborah Read of Philadelphia. 
Franklin advertised everything. One of his most 
original attempts read as follows: "Taken out of a 
pew in the Church some months since, a Common 
Prayer Book, bound in red, gilt, and lettered D. F. 






(Deborah Franklin) on each cover. The person who 
took it is desired to open it, and read the Eighth Com- 
mandment, and afterwards 
return it into the same pew 
again ; upon which no fur- 
ther notice will be taken." 

When the Revolutionary 
War broke out Franklin was 
one of the foremost men in 
the American cause. He 
was sent as minister to 
P'rance, and he was one of 
the signers of the Declara- 
tion of Independence, and 
said: "We must all hang 
together, or we shall all 
hang separately. " 

He died April 17, 1790, 
at the age of eighty-four, 
beloved and honored 
throughout the world. 

Bancroft said of him : 
"He never spoke a word 
too soon, nor a word too 
late, nor a word too much, 
nor failed to speak the 

right word at the right sea- " waiting for spring." 


Benjamin Franklin is one of my favorite characters in 
history, because of his quick wit, his remarkable ingenu- 
ity, his originality, and his steady persistency. 



My favorite character 
in history isChristopher 
Columbus. He, to me, __ 
was a truly great man. 
People laughed at him, 
scoffed at him, and "from nature 

jeered at him, yet he did 
not heed them. Wise men 
scorned him and called 
him crazy. But did he lis- 
ten ? No, indeed; he be- 
lieved that the earth was 
round, and nothing changed 
him. A man that is truly 
great, to me, is the one 
who is not believed in, the 
one whom people consider 
foolish, but yet proves him- 
self truly great, as Colum- 
bus did. 

I once thought that 
Washington was my favor- 
ite. But Washington had 
many advantages ; he was . 
not jeered and laughed at ; 
the whole of America did 
him homage. From the 
first, people believed in 
him. Not so with poor 
Columbus : his whole life, 
after he had said that the 
earth was round, was full 
of sorrow, and he died 

In after years people saw 
what he had done, and he was greatly esteemed in the 
hearts of the people. But he was dead. 

You, perhaps, would now 
^ ... '! say : " But Lincoln was a 

great man, and he had no 
; I ' advantages whatever." Per- 

ls' '?J? haps not; but did not the 

people believe in him? Did 
they not say he would be a 
great man some day? But 
poor Columbus had no one. 
You will say that Queen Isa- 
bella believed in him. Per- 
haps, because she thought 
of the gold he would bring 
back ; when hebroughtnone, 
what did she care for him ? 
Naught ; her thought was 
only of gold and jewels. 


by harvey deschere 
(age 14). 

Oh, this is merry June- 
time, the month of 
blooming flowers, 
When bees are busy working through all our idle hours ; 
And here are beds of poppies, their colors bright dis- 
And here are groups of pansies abid- 
ing in the shade. 
There twines the morning-glory, 
there peeps the fairy 
And yonder blue lobelias 
rejoice on hill and 
But in my little garden 
I 've no such flowers 
as these; 





Wilkie Gilholm 
Eunice C. Barstow 
Mabel C. Stark 
Louisa F. Spear 
Doris Francklyn 
Alleine Langford 
Fay Marie Hartley 
Sara M. Snedeker 
Lillian Alexander 
Frances Paine 
Kathleen A. Burgess 
Archibald S. MacDonald 
Katherine Ashby 
Sidonia Deutsch 
Ethel Elliott 
Estella E. Barnes 
Odette Growe 
Mabel Fletcher 
Eva Wilson 
Mary S. Sims 
Mary Lichthardt 
Agnes Churchill Lacy 
Ruth Bird 

A. Elizabeth Goldberg 
Marjorie V. Betts 
Jeanette Rathbun 
Bertie B. Regester 
Mary Yeula Wescott 
Eleanor Myers 
Katharine Monica Bur- 
Mildred Ockert 
Jessica Nelson North 
Helen D. Bell 
Florence Forristall 
Charles Irish Preston 
Kathryn Macy 
Floy De Grove Baker 
Harold R. N orris 
Leonard Beekman 
Elizabeth Beale 
Mary White Pound 
Anna H. Burdette 
Janet Weil 

Gertrude May Winstone 
Beth Howard 
Alice Mary Ogden 

Vol. XXX.— 96. 

Margaret V. Underhill 
Lula Larrabee 
Abram Nicholls Jones 
Helena Marco 

Gladys Ralston Britton 
Florence L. Bain 
Annie Robertson 
Mae Morning Star 
Paul H. Prausnitz 
Margery Bennett 
R. M. Kissel 
Edith M. Clark 
Alberta Cowgill 

Helen R. Janeway 
Charlotte M. H. Beath 
Wilhelmina Mitchell 
Elizabeth Wellington 
Eleanor R. Johnson 
Marjorie Wellington 

Marguerite Reed 
Agnes Andrus 
Dorothy Allen 
Elinor Dodsworth 
Lnra W. Mendum 
Bessie Bunzel 
Elsie F. Weil 
Gladys Adams 
Margaret Eleanor Keim 

Alice MaryMargaret Ogden Olive D. Thacher 

Karl S. Cate 
Dorothy Russell Lewis 
Mildred R. Betts 
Emily Rose Burt 
Gladys Marie Kuhn 
Annie Ramsey 
Mary F. Casey 
Gladys Gaylord 
Margaret S. Cochran 
Elizabeth Woodson 
Edith J. Ballou 
Blanche Leeming 

Dorothy H. Ebersole 
Catherine Flint 
Margaret Benedict 
Emelyn Ten Eyck 
Elisabeth Coit 
Alan D. Campbell, Jr. 
Carolyn Bulley 
Emily Chamberlain 
May Lecompte 
Lisbeth Harlan 
Lois M. Williams 
Ruth Parker 

Dorothea Bechtel 
Mary Klauder 
Walter Weeks 
Donald McNamee 
Jack Loomis 
Marion Grier 
Harold Levy 
Ella Elizabeth Preston 
Gertrude Folts 
Viola Graham 
Helen M. Boardman 


Elsa Clark 
Zena Parker 
Chester T. Swinnerton 
Anna M. Neuburger 
Gladys Carroll 
Joey Humble 
Dorothy Felt 
Grace Phelps 


Julia Wright McCormick 

Peirce E. Johnson 

Dora R. Beggs 

Florence Schryver 

Katherine Kurz 

Eleanor Clifton 

Medora Addison 

Anna Jutsun 

Charles P. Howard 

Marguerite B. Child 

Ruth Boyden 

Mary Redfield Adam 

Lewis King Underhill 

Hazel G. Hyman 

Grace Leadingham 

M. N. Stites 

Helen Ballard 

John E. Colley 

Louise Taylor Preston 

Henry Goldman 

Elizabeth Parker 

Frances Cecilia Reed 
Ethel Pickard 
Vashti Kaye 
Ellen H. Skinner 
Herrick H. Harwood 
James Alger Fee 
Lorraine Andrews 
Elsa Simonson 
Susy Fitz Simons 
Marjorie Howe Sawyer 
Elaine Sterne 
Abigail E. Jenner 
Margaret Gordon 
Emilie A. Ide 
Thomas French 
Catharine Straker 
Charlotte C. Wyckoff 
Frances B. Russell 
Nettie Pearson 
Zenobia Camprubi Ay- 
Mary Ward 
Elizabeth McDowell 
Earl D. Van Deman 
Mary Alice Allen 
Elizabeth P. Jackson 
Dorothy Nicoll 
Doris Long 




Edena Curry 
Philip H. Bunker 
George E. W. Hardy 
Constance M. Mitchell 
Mary Dorothy Musser 
Dorothy M. Crossley 
Dorothy McKee 
Cula Letzke 

Daisy Rascower 
Nelson Hackett 
Edith Muriel Andrews 
Margaret P. Ginter 
Louis F. May 
Laura Gallery 
Jeannette C. Klauder 
Ray Randall 
Gladys Platten 
Earle N. Cutler 

Dorothy Ochtman 
Dorothy Williams 
Mildred Mitchell 
Jeanette Baker Fuqua 
Lewis Lind 
Frederica Tufts 
Henry Wickenden 
Alan Phillips 
Robert Hammond Gibson 
Carl Wetzel 
Edward L. Tilton 
Delphina L. Hammer 
J. E. Fisher, Jr. 
Prescott Wright 
John N. Tilton, Jr. 
John A. Macy 
Chester A. Fee 
Wilhelmina Moloney 

Reyer H. Van Zwalunen- Mary Merrill Foster 

Irma Herman 
Everett Putney Combes 
Katharine Hall 
Ethel Steinhilber 
Arnie Trattner 
Agnes Dorothy Campbell 
Fannie Stern 
Mary Alice Shaw 
Rosie Bufenslein 
Ruth Reed 

C. Mortimer Wilmerding 
Cyrena Vansyckel Martin 
Mary Rodgers 
Bennie Blascowsky 
Catharine Neale 
Edwin A. Leonhard 
Viveen Bralo 
Robert Goldschmidt 
Dorothy Hall 
Bennie Hasselman 
Lyle Vincent Nelson 
Robert L. Wheeler 
Margaret Hotchkiss 
Ethel Whittlesey 
Kirkland H. Day 
Robert Walsh 
Frances Kase 
Doris L. Nash 
Gordon Mitchell 
Sophia T. Cole 
Maurice L. Bower, Jr. 
Vera Bryant 
Violet Pakenham 
Truman P. Handy 
Ethel Messervy 
Rachel Bulley 
Aline J. Dreyfus 
Anne H. Gleaves 
Louise Robbins 
Harold Gunther Breul 
Dorothy Mulford Riggs 
Helen N. De Haven 
Mary Ross 
Jane Meldrim 
Dorothy Gilbert 
Anita Moffett 
Salome Beatrice Allen 
Eleanor F. L. Clement 
Mildred Talbot 
Joseph Fewsmith 
Marion Osgood Chapin 
Margaret McKeon 
William C. Engle 

Vera Belle Hoskinson 
Anna Katherine Cook 
Arthur Patrick 
Paul Mayo McNamee 
Alta M. Shaw 
Helen Ryder 
Carol Sherman 
Isabel Cornwall 
Beatrice Andrews 


Blanche Rible 
Helen de Veer 
May Lewis Close 
Emily Grace Hanks 
Robert Canby Hallowell 
Edith Plousky 
R. E. Andrews 
Albert Eisner 
Cordner H. Smith 
Ruth E. Crombie 
Wray B. Physioc 
Gigurd Ueland 
Bessie B. Styron 
Carroll W. Dunn 
Melville Levey 
Theodore Keller 
Dorothy L. Warren 
Sarah C. McDavitt 
Courtland N. Smith 
Margaret Winthrop Peck 
Gilberta H. Daniels 
Ella Neely 
Marion H. Russell 
Albert Izor 
Edna Phillips 
Helen Clark Crane 
Florence Ewing Wilkinson 
Edith M. Thomson 
Isadore Douglas 
Tom Benton 
Elizabeth Abbott 
Margery Bradshaw 
Lucy MacKenzie 
Freda Muriel Harrison 


Florence Votey 
Katherine D. Barbour 
Susie Fleming 
Phcebe Wilkinson 
Margaret Beaman Neale 
Evelyn O. Foster 

Robert W. Foulke 

Helen Russell 

Allen P. Salmon 

Cantey McDowell Venable 

Mark Curtis Kinney 

Margaret Micon 

Glenn Crihfield 

Lucile Christina Mellen 

Adele Norton 

Helen Cronyu 

Edna B. Youngs 

Aimee Vervalen 

Helen A. Fleck 

Richard A. Reddy 

Esther Parker 

Joseph W. McGurk 

Helen Louise Gifford 

Elizabeth Otis 

Kathrine Forbes Liddell 

Virginia W. Jones 

Jessie McKinney 

Ruth Felt 

Virginia Lyman 

Muriel M. K. E. Douglas 

Irma Jessie Diescher 

Harry E. Ballman 

Eugene C. Wann 

Edith G. Daggett 

Rose C. Goode 

Margaret A. Dobson 

Mildred C. Jones 

Harold Helm 

Clarissa Rose 

George T. Leach 

F. Austin Cartmell 

Ruth Frost 

Elizabeth A. Gest 

Geraldine Noel 

Marjorie Connor 

Isabel Williamson 

Roger M. Smith 

Ruth Margaret Keran 

Walter W. Hood 

Richard de Charms, Jr. 

Dorothy Straine 

Ethel E. Smith 

William Davis Gordon 

Jack Morse 

Reynold A. Spaeth 
Henry H. Hickman 
Morgan Hebard 
R. Ellison Thompson 
Stanley Cobb 
Joseph S. Webb 
Georgette Mallet 
T. K. Whipple 
Florence R. T. Smith 
Thad R. Goldsberry 
C. B. Andrews 
John L. Hopper 
Frances Cora Dudley 
James N. Young 
Ada H. Case 
Winifred Booker 

Clifford H. Lawrence 
Ruth F. Londoner 
Loulon Sloet d'Oldreu- 

Alice L. Cousens 

1 Sidney F. Kimball 

Raymond P. White 
Laurence Day 
Francis J. Gerhard 
Sally Van Zilo 
Theodore M. Prudden 
Adelaide B. Montizambert 
Louise Obenmeyer 
Abbott Norris 
Mollie Brooks 
Cyril S. Tracy 
Anna Heffern 
Rebekah F. Mitchell 
Lawrence B. Lathrop 
Burwell Newton 
Allan W. Stephens 
C. Marjorie Mhoon 
Nellie R. Kingsley 
Leslie Bradley 
Clarence L. Hauthaway 
Stanley Cowden 

Cora Edith Wellman 
Dorothy Farmun 

Howard Hosmer 
William Ellis Keysor 
Virginia Worthington 
Clarence T. Purdy 
Dorothea M. Dexter 
Ruth Bagley 
Weston Harding 
F. C. F. Randolph 
M. D. Malcomson 
Gratchen Donnelly 
Marcus Clifford Millet 
Helen M. Gaston 

Frances Benedict 
Helen F. Carter 
Scott Sterling 
Thomas S. McAllister 
Chester Ober 
Elizabeth Clarke 
Charles C. Rossire, Jr. 
George T. Colman 
Dorothy Ames 
Joseph Wells 
Katharine L. Putnam 
David K. Jackman 
Carolus R. Webb 
T. Lawrason Riggs 
S. Butler Murray, Jr. 
Florence Hoyte 
Mary H. Col ton 
Edward W. Gridley 






No. 634. "Jolly Four." Bessie Wright, 
President; Howard Rushton, Secretary; four 
members. Address, Fairmont, Neb. 

No. '635. "Carnation." Bertha Poole, 
President; Helen McNair, Secretary; four 
members. Address, Cloquet, Minn. 

No. 636. Geoffrey Hawes, President ; Clar- 
ence Stevens, Secretary ; ten members. Ad- 
dress, 37 Marlborough Ave., Providence, R.I. 

No. 637. " Invincibles." Prince Wheeler, 
President; Earle Voter, Secretary ; fourteen 
members. Address, care of Mrs. F. Wheeler, 
Phillips, Me. 

No. 638. Ingle Barr, President; Adela 
Wilson, Secretary; five members. Address, 
1358 Grace Ave., Mt. Lookout, Cincinnati, O. 

No. 639. "Indian Club." Harriet Maxon, President; Dorothy 
Rogers, Secretary ; three members. Address, 318 Ogden Ave., 
Milwaukee, Wis. 

No. 640. Marion Beiermeister, Secretary ; twelve members. Ad- 
dress, Corner Tiblits and Bruns- 
wick Aves., Troy, N. V. 

No. 64r. "Night Hawk." 
George McGill, President; Por- 
ter Haworth, Secretary; eight 
members. Address, 527 Ken- 
wood Terrace, Chicago, III. 

No. 642. " R. M. S." Michele 
Ticknor, President ; Margaret 
Yancey, Secretary ; two mem- 
bers. Address, Albany, Ga. 

No. 643. Majel Buckstaff, 
President ; six members. Ad- 
dress, 100 Algoma St., Oshkosh, 

No. 644 "Frisky Four." 
Elizabeth Flynn, President ; four 
members. Address, Jefferson 
Barracks, Mo. 

No. 645. "The Ping Pong 
Players." Lucy Keifer, Presi- 
dent; Irma Herman, Secretary; 
two members. Address, 1621 
M Street, Lincoln, Neb. 

No. 646. " Nature Boys." 
Herbert Ditterline, President ; 
Clarence Green, Secretary ; three 
members. Address, McNoel, 111. 

No. 647. " Moonbeam." Janet 
Sauce, President; Mary Matthews, 
Address, Kenosha, Wis. 

No. 648. "Sweet Pea." Mary Rosevear, President; Roland 
Ackerman, Secretary; four members. Address, 162 Engle St., 
Englewood, N. J. 


Secretary ; four members. 



AGE 16. 

be illustrated, if desired, with not more than two draw- 
ings or photographs by the author. Title, " Lullaby." 
Prose. Story, article, or play of not more than four 
hundred words. It may be illustrated, if desired, with 
not more than two draw- 
ings by the author. Title, 
" My Favorite Episode in 
History." May be humor- 
ous or serious. 

Photograph. Any size, 
interior orexterior, mounted 
or unmounted, but no blue 
prints or negatives. Sub- 
ject, " A Sunny Corner." 

Drawing. India ink, 
very black writing-ink, or 
wash (not color), interior 
or exterior. Two subjects, 
" A Caricature of Some 
Famous Living American " 
and " A Heading for Sep- 

Puzzle. Any sort, but 
must be accompanied by 
the answer in full. 

Puzzle-answers. Best, 



neatest, and most complete set of answers to puzzles 
in this issue of St. Nicholas. 

Wild-animal or Bird Photograph. To encourage 
the pursuing of game with a camera instead of a gun. 
For the best photograph of a wild animal or bird taken 
in its natural home : First Prize, five dollars and League 
gold badge. Second Prize, three dollars and League 
gold badge. Third Prize, League gold badge. 

No. 649. "Live to Learn." Dorothy Kuhns, President; Rachel 
Bulley, Secretary; ten members. Address, Canton, O. 


The St. Nicholas League awards gold and 
badges each month for the best poems, stories, 
ings, photographs, puzzles, and puzzle-answers. 

A Special Cash Prize. To 
any League member who has won 
a gold badge for any of the above- 
named achievements, and shall 
again win first place, a cash prize 
of five dollars will be awarded, 
instead of another gold badge. 

Competition No. 45 will close 
June 20 (for foreign mem- 
bers June 25). The awards 
will be announced and prize 
contributions published in St. 
Nicholas for September. 

Verse. To contain not more 
than twenty-four lines, and may 



Every contribution, of whatever kind, must bear the 
name, age, and address of the sender, and be indorsed 
as "original" by parent, teacher, or guardian, who 
must be convinced beyond doubt that the contribution 
is not copied, but wholly the work and idea of the 
sender. If prose, the number of words should also be 
added. These things must not be 
on a separate sheet, but on the con- 
tribution itself— -if a manuscript, 
on the upper margin ; if a picture, 
on the margin or back. Write or 
draw on one side of the paper only. 
A contributor may send but one 
contribution a month — not one 
of each kind, but one only. Ad- 
dress all communications : ■ 


The St. Nicholas League, 

Union Square, 

New York. 



The choosing of the prize- 
winners was, as usual, a 
difficult task. Nearly all 
the papers submitted were excellent, and even 
among the best of them were many showing 
that commonest of faults in young people's writ- 
ing — affectation. After much re-reading and 
comparison the following young authors were 
selected as prize-winners : 

Our competitors will be surprised to learn 
that nearly a third of the papers submitted 
were given up to describing the delights of read- 
ing in a tree / Out of over a hundred choices 
named, thirty-seven indicated a preference for 
the boughs of a tree or the shade of the woods. 
Next in favor came reading by the fire, in a 
big chair, in a hammock, by a lake or river. 
The attic and the veranda come next, followed 

First Prize, $3.00 worth of books published by library or sitting-room. This would seem 

to indicate that the librarians are making a mis- 
take in setting apart reading-rooms for young 
people. If the young readers themselves are 
to be pleased, the way to provide for their com- 
fort is to secure an orchard of gnarly-armed 
apple-trees, and fit board seats among the 
branches ! This for summer. For winter, 
library committees should provide big fire- 
places, in front of which are cozy rugs and 
large arm-chairs. Possibly thrifty farmers 
might rent their orchards for reading-rooms to 
young summer visitors. 

For the June contest 
three prizes of subscrip- 
tions to St. Nicholas or the same value in 
books will be awarded for the best answers 
to the following question : If you wished to 
lead a boy under sixteen to read good litera- 
ture, what ten books of fiction would you name 

by the Century Co.: Mary Blossom Bloss (i i), 
St. Joseph, Mo. Second Prize, $2.00 worth of 
books: Yseulte Parnell (16), London, Eng- 
land. Third Prize, $1.00 worth of books, Eliza- 
beth Q. Bolles (17), Cambridge, Mass. Next 
in order came Marian Gardner (12), Chatham, 
N. Y. ; Mildred Fleck (8), Denver, Colo.; 
and Theodore Biggs Metzger (15), Elmira, 

We print the first-prize essay : 



There are many, many lovely places for reading, but 
I think mine is one of the loveliest. And now you will 
be curious to know what kind of a nook or corner I 
have for my reading-place. But it is neither nook nor 
corner, but a small house built up in the branches of a 
very large tree. It is down at the end of the yard, and 
stands about ten feet from the ground. You may think 
that it is very inconvenient to reach this little house of as li^ly t O give him a taste for the best read- 
ours; but that is not so, as there are steps leading up to 
it. Then, when we once get up, there is no possible 



? Answers must 

danger of falling, as there is a high board fence all 
around it. On hot summer days, when I want to steal 
•away from all the rest of the world and read of gnomes 
and charming fairies, I have only to wave my magic 
wand, and my feet begin to travel, and take me across 
green grass and past yellow and red roses, and beautiful 
red apples, that grow from trees that look as if they 
sprouted right out of fairyland just because they knew I 
was coming, up a flight of stairs, to a hammock that is 
spreading out to catch me ; then the tree waves all its 
branches, and a breeze springs up and blows me out of 
the world into fairyland. Oh, how lovely is Prince 
Charming when he steps up and asks me to come to the 
ball to-night. Then away I go dancing and waltzing with 
all the charming princes. 

And there are many others, too, that will invite me 
any time I choose to go to my favorite place for reading. 

be brief, and must be 
1903. Address Books 

received by June 15 
and Reading Department, St. Nicholas 
Magazine, Union Square, New York. Read- 
ers under eighteen years of age may compete. 

Milwaukee, Wis. 

Dear St. Nicholas : Inclosed you will please find 
my list of books that will be of use to lovers of nature, 
birds, and objects found on the sea-shore. I have read 
nearly all the books, and I think they are interesting and 
very instructive. 

I had the pleasure of spending four years out in the 
country, and one winter in Palm Beach, Florida. I am 
very fond of all nature, and delight in roaming about the 
fields, woods, swamps, and roadsides. 

My favorite departments in the St. Nicholas are 
Nature and Science, and Books and Reading. 




I am twenty-three years old — sorry to say, too old to 
take part in the prize competitions. 

Hoping that these books will aid the nature-loving 
readers of the St. Nicholas, I am 

Your interested reader, Adeline Beyer. 


Seaside and Wayside Julia McNair Wright 

Life on the Sea-shore James H. Emerton 

The Common Objects of the Sea-shore 
The Common Shells of the Sea-shore 

Rev. J. G. Wood 


A Guide to the Wild Flowers 

A Guide to the Trees Alice Lounsberry 

How to Know the Wild Flowers 

Mrs. W. S. Dana 
How to Know the Ferns Frances Parsons 
Our Ferns and their Haunts William W. Stilson 
Familiar Trees and their Leaves 
Familiar Flowers 
Familiar Life in Field and Forest 
Familiar Features of the Roadside 

F. Schuyler Mathews 
Bird Life Frank M. Chapman 

Newton, N. J. 
Dear Editor : I inclose a list of books for nature 
study. They are not nature stories, but books for refer- 
ence or to aid in classification. 


How to Know the Wild Flowers 

Mrs. W. S. Dana 
How to Know the Ferns Mrs. Dana 
Nature's Garden Neltje Blanchan 


A Guide to the Trees Alice Lounsberry 


American Animals W. Stone and W. E. Cram 

Four-footed Americans Mabel O. Wright 

Citizen Bird M. O. Wright and E. Cones 

Birds that Hunt and are Hunted 
Bird Neighbors N. Blanchan. 

Every-day Butterflies S. H. Scudder 

Sharp Eyes 
Nature's Calendar 


W. H. Gibson 
Ernest Ingersoll 

Your sincere friend, 

Isadore Douglas 
(age 15). 

Brighton, Mass. 
Dear Editor : I send you the names of three good 
nature books, two of which are flowers and the other a 

seaside book : " How to Know the Wild Flowers," by 
Mrs. William Starr Dana; " According to Season," by 
the same author ; and " Ocean Wonders ; a Companion 
for the Seaside," by William E. Damon. This last book 
was published in 1857, and I don't know whether it 
could be bought now. It was published by D. Appleton 
& Co. I have used all of these books, and they are really 
good, especially the first-named flower book, which is 
fine. Yours truly, Mary E. Hatch (age 13). 

Let us advise our young naturalists not to 
study the whole animal and vegetable king- 
doms at once ! 

" my favorite There is a tendency 
author." among young readers to 
find in one author so much delight that they 
do not care to read any other with the same 
delight. It is said that when Millet was study- 
ing art — the Millet who painted the " Angelus" 
and many other pictures better than that — he 
worked for a time in the studio of Thomas 
Couture. At length the master advised Millet 
to leave his studio and work for himself, saying 
something like this : " Be yourself. All these 
students of mine are only little Thomas Cou- 
tures." In the same spirit you may be sure 
that the really great authors would be the first 
to beg you to read more than one man's works. 
The very qualities that make a writer great are 
those in which he is different from his fellows. 
Dickens had who knows how many imitators? 
Who knows who they are ? Do not be afraid 
to differ with your " favorite author." Nearly 
all have their weaker moments, and their works 
that are failures. You can judge the value of 
books by their effect upon you after reading 
them. The best authors are those that send 
you back to real life with an added interest in 
real things. Let your favorite authors, there- 
fore, be those that make you " do noble things, 
not dream them all day long." Now, an author 
who pleases you better than any others may not 
be the best for you to read. Pleasure in read- 
ing is not the only object of reading. An author 
who always gives you pleasure may do you less 
good than one who makes you somewhat dis- 
satisfied with yourself; just as the best teachers 
are not always the ones whose class-rooms are 
the most delightful. The severer teacher may 
give you an unpleasant hour that will later lead 
to much pleasanter years. 


For the beautiful poem in this number entitled 
" Neighbors," St. Nicholas is really indebted not only 
to Miss Ethel Parton, but equally to Mrs. Martha A. 
Boughton of Brooklyn, New York, who first called our 
attention to the interesting fact that the little " amiable 
child" was buried so near the resting-place of this famous 
general. And it was from Mrs. Boughton's suggestion 
that Miss Parton wrote the stately and touching verses 
which are printed on page 737. 

We used to have such a funny cat. I am afraid you 
would hardly believe me when I say she used to eat the 
rinds of watermeloiis, and more than once she has been 
caught stealing rock-melons. 

I must close now, dear St. Nicholas. From your 
interested and affectionate little reader, 

Magdalen Anderson. 

Cleveland, O. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I have just started taking St. 
Nicholas, although I was received into the League 
some time ago. I find unlimited pleasure in reading 
you. I like the story of " King Arthur and his 
Knights." I also like the competitions and 
am especially interested in the stories and ar- ., - „ , T 
tides of the different competitors. The Na- : 
ture and Science section has special charms 
for me, as we hope to soon move to the coun- 
try. I remain, 

Your friend and well-wisher, 

John I. Tracy. 

Pontiac, III. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I am a new subscriber and 
think the St. Nicholas is very nice. 

I have been reading the letters in the Letter-box and 
think they are very interesting. 

I thought I would write you a letter myself and tell 
you about my dog. 

He is a Scotch collie, and I drive him to a wagon in 
the summer-time and a sled in the winter. I can drive 

Mansfield, La. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I have been taking 
you for two years and enjoy reading you so 
much ! I especially enjoyed " A Boy of a 
Thousand Years Ago," and now look forward 
to the next number of " King Arthur and his 

I attend Mansfield Female College, which 
is in the northwestern part of Louisiana. 

We have a good many parties, and also go 
driving out into the country. 

We are not allowed to play pranks on each 
other, but on Saturday nights we gather for 
a feast or some other amusement. We are 
studying English literature and have just 
finished "Lady Macbeth." 

Well, I must close. 

Your devoted reader, 

Du Bois Elder (age 16) 


Newstead, Glen Innes, 

Dear St. Nicholas: I am writing to you for the 
very first time. Mother has given you to me for three 
years, and I think you are delightfully interesting and 
nice. The stories in you that I like best are " The 
Boys of the Rincon Ranch," " Sir Marrok," " A Boy 
of a Thousand Years Ago," and "The Story of Barnaby 

I have such a beautiful little brown pony called 
" Lochinvar," two canaries, and such a pretty tabby-cat — 
only her beauty is quite spoiled by her bad temper and 
jealousy. She won't let anybody pick her up and play 
with her, and whenever she meets another cat she 
scratches her. I have two brothers at school, and the 
second one is the crack shot of the whole school. He 
made a record of twenty bull's-eyes, one after the other, 
and got such a nice gold medal. It is such fun in the 
holidays ! We have grand rides, picnics, and at night, 
sometimes, we go out possum-shooting. 

him anywhere. His name is Frank; he is three years 
old and very large. 

I send you his picture. The girl in the wagon is my 
sister Marjorie ; she is nine years old. 

Good-by. From 

Apbie Louise Lyon (age 10). 

Chicago, III. 

Dear St. Nicholas : It occurs to me that the fol- 
lowing, from my seven-year-old son Dayton, is not only 
original with him, but is also sufficiently amusing to be 

Upon hearing a lady caller say to his aunt that the 
climate of San Francisco was both cold and hot, and that 
the people who stroll on the sunny side of the street are 
sweltering, while those who walk in the shade on the 
other side are wearing winter overcoats and almost 
freezing, he remarked: "Then why don't they all walk 
down the middle of the street ? " 

Taylor G. Brown. 

We have also received interesting letters from Con- 
stance Edgar, Forest E. Middleton, Rachel C. Embree, 
Nina S. Wetmore, Agnes Gould, John A. O'Neill, Edna 
D. Hess, Evelyn G. Patch, and others. 



Double Acrostic. Primals, Annapolis; finals, West Point. 
Cross-words: i. Arrow. 2. Niche. 3. Nouns. 4. About. 5. 
Plump. 6. Owego. 7. Lundi. 8. Ilion. 9. Start. 

Subtractions. Landseer. 1. Bull, dog. 2. Spaniel, spa. 3. 
Saint Bernard, in. 4. Bloodhound, blood. 5. Mastiff, as. 6. Col- 
lie, lie. 7. Dhole, hole. 8. Terrier, err. 

Novel Diagonal. Aristophanes. 1. Affuse. 2. Riddle. 3. 
Esteem. 4. Trophy. 5. Lethal. 6. Serene. 7. Crisis. 

Zigzag. Decoration Day. Cross-words: 1. Drapery. 2. Mer- 
cury. 3. Factory. 4. Dorothy. 5. Returns. 6. Instead. 7. 
Thought. 8. Plaudit. 9. Sorrows. 10. Winning, n. Madness. 
12. Parents. 13. Yearned. 

Divided Words, i. Pa-il, ca-ne, pane. 2. La-rk, ca-mp, 
lamp. 3 Bo-ok, co-at, boat. 4. La-ce, ra-ke, lake. 

Zigzag. Memorial Day. 1. Ti-mid-ly. 2. Co-met-ic. 3. Ot- 
tom-an. 4. Pa-rot-id. 5. Pa-rag-on. 6. Po-lit-ic. 7. Mo-ora-ge. 
8. Co-ale-ry. 9. Ar-den-cy. 10. Pe-nan-ce. n. De-lay-ed. 

Progressive Numerical Enigma, i. Cur-led. 2. In-ward. 
3. Viol-ate. 4. Imp-rove. 

Diagonal. America. 1. Ancient. 2. Immense. 3. Clement. 4. 
Gherkin. 5. Bandits. 6. Trounce. 7. Rebecca. 

Connected Squares. I. 1. Base. 2. Abel. 3. Sell. 4. Ella. 
II. 1. Bear. 2. Ease. 3. Asks. 4. Rest. III. 1. Aster. 2. 
Shore. 3. Total. 4. Erase. 5. Relet. IV. 1. Star. 2. Tine. 
3. Anna. 4: Rear. V. 1. Trip. 2. Ride. 3. Idea. 4. Pear. 

To our Puzzlers: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the rsth of each month, and 
should be addressed to St. Nicholas Riddle-box, care of The Century Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City. 

Answers to all the Puzzles in the March Number were received, before March 15th, from " M. McG." — Alice Tay- 
lor Huyler — Bertha B. Janney — " AUil andAdi" — Joe Carlada — Mary Alice Stevenson — Mollie G. — "Red Rovers" — Rumsey Hall — 
Hannah T. Thompson — Laura Dow — Lilian Sarah Burt — Edward Sargent Steinbach — Daniel Milton Miller — Allen West — Esther, 
Ernest, and Constance — "Johnny Bear" — Mabel, George, and Henri — " Chuck" — George T. Colman — Marion B. Gifford. 

Answers to Puzzles in the March Number were received, before March rsth, from A. C. Shillaber, 1 — L. Pfeiffer, 1 — S. W. 
Robb, 1 — Ruth M. Naughton, 5 — Mignonne Parker, 6 — E. Russell, 2 — M. Crabbe, 2 — W. P. Waters, 1 — Irene Williams, 5 — C. B. 
Leete, 1 — A. Cruger, 1 — M. Gordon, 2 — Elizabeth Cellarius, 5 — S. Hogg, 1 — A. G. Gordon, 1 — - E. Gay, 1 — M. Causse, 1 — A. 
Pollock, 1 — G. Bothum, 1 — " Annabel Lea," 3 — Louise B. Sloss, 4 — B. Tappan, 1 — R. W. Robbins, 1 — Florence A. Rideout, 2 — 
W. English, 1 — Mabel Chapin, 1 — E. A. Madge, 9 — Amelia S. Ferguson, 10 — Dorothy Stoddard, 10 — Eleanor Underwood, 10 — Stella 

B. Weinstein, 10 — Margaret C. Wilby, 9 — Olive Brush and Sadie Rust, 6 — William 6. Rice, Jr., 4 — Jean and Anna Mackenzie, 2 — 

C. Niven, 1 — A. Gould, 1 — P. B. Schnur, 1 — W. E. Perry, 1 — - Bessie S. Jones, 1 — S. Young, 1 — H . B. Barclay, 1 — J. Schools, 1. 


All of the words described contain the same number 
of letters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another in the order here given, one of the rows of let- 
ters, reading downward, will spell the name of a great 
musical composer, and another row, also reading down- 
ward, will spell a word which forms part of the name of 
one of his most famous compositions. 

1. Belonging to Abram. 2. The surname of a famous 
English admiral. 3. One who is empowered to exam- 
ine manuscripts before they are committed to the press, 
and to forbid their publication if they contain anything 
obnoxious. 4. A thin cord. 5. Ought to. 6. A tit- 
mouse. 7. To take vengeance for. 8. Heaviness. 9. 
To ask. ' Florence hoyte (League Member). 


(.Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

All the words described contain the same number of 
letters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another, in the order here given, the diagonal (begin- 
ning with the upper left-hand letter and ending with the 
lower right-hand letter) will spell the name of a pretty 
wild flower. 

Cross-words : i. A gorgeous insect. 2. Agitated. 
3. Contented. 4. One who deals in books and station- 

ery. 5. Remarkable. 6. Made certain. 7. A remark- 
able sight. 8. Given to trifling. 9. The state or dig- 
nity of a queen. Walter j. schloss. 


One name is concealed in each sentence. 

1. The spider's webs terrify the flies, for so many of 
them manage to avoid them. 

2. A species of bark, Wrightia by name, is very val- 

3. Whitney's cotton-gin was a boon to humanity. 

4. " When will Laurence come home ? " " He is 
home," responded Martha. 

5. The sahib sent his slave to Mustapha. 

6. All the tunnels on the road are lighted with elec- 

7. The bully struck the little boy, who, crying, ran to 
his mother. 

8. If the poor could obtain enough coal they would be 

9. How far can you toss ? I and my brother can toss 
quite a distance. 

10. We must have some new tongs without any long 

The initials of the ten concealed names will spell the 
name of a famous American. 

Herbert ALLAN boas (League Member). 





My primals spell the title of a popular book, and my 
finals spell the surname of the author. 

Cross-words (of unequal length) : I. Interchange of 
goods. 2. A temporary obstruction. 3. A Biblical 
name. 4. A round piece used in a game. 5. Anything 
preserved in remembrance. 6. A measure of length. 
7. A prefix signifying half. 8. The very same. 9. A 
guard. EDITH WINSLOW (League Member). 


ditches. 5. Insert a letter in to discover, and make 
one who is maliciously wicked. 6. Insert a letter in a 
rubber pipe, and make an animal. 7. Insert a letter in 
an Egyptian deity, and make a little green fly. 8. In- 
sert a letter in a landlord, and make to lift. 9. Insert a 
letter, in a common name for the mapach, and make a 
punctuation-mark. 10. Insert a letter in to fly aloft, 
and make pertaining to the sun. 

The inserted letters will spell the name of a famous 
battle. DOROTHY FAY. 


I. I. To lose color. 2. At a distance. 3. A small 
valley. 4. Parts of the head. 

II. 1. Expires. 2. A mental image. 3. Snake- 
like fishes. 4. A girdle. 

M. and R. knappenberger (League Members). 


(Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

One word is hidden in each sentence. When the 
eleven hidden words (all of the same length) have been 
rightly guessed and written one below another, their 
initials will spell the name of a celebrated French revo- 

1. At Cairo very fine mosques are to be seen. 

2. Did you have a good night ? No ; the rooks kept 
me awake. 

3. The monkey nibbled the bun cheerfully. 

4. You can see the railroad from the window. 

5. He cast artful glances in my direction. 

6. When he had found his cap I permitted him to go. 

7. The fly-wheel of this engine is four and a quarter 
feet in diameter. 

8. If you do not succeed, why, then, try again. 

9. When he said that it was silver I derided him. 

10. Since the disaster I very seldom go near the 

11. He rectified the error. w. n. coupland. 


(Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

When the six objects in the above picture have been 
rightly guessed and written one below another, the cen- 
tral letters, reading downward, will spell the surname of 
a man who was known as the " Last Cocked Hat." 


When the following words have been rightly guessed 
and written one below another in the order named, the 
initial letters will spell the name of a great general, and 
another row of letters will spell the place where he 
passed the winter of 1777-78. 

CROSS-WORDS: i. A donor. 2. Fatigued. 3. Trou- 
bled. 4. A city associated wilh witchcraft. 5. A large 
but cowardly animal. 6. Short poems. 7. An old 
word meaning " a trifle." 8. A goblin. 9. Exhausted. 
10. A musical instrument. 11. A relative. 


(League Member). 


(Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

Example: Insert a letter in a small nail, and make 
th« staff of life. Answer, Br-e-ad, brad. 

I. Insert a letter in to stagger, and make one who re- 
volts. 2. Insert a letter in a forest, and make a common 
verb. 3. Insert a letter in small quadrupeds, and make 
to chop fine. 4. Insert a letter in expires, and make 

I. Upper Left-hand Square: i. Opposed with 
firmness. 2. To stay. 3. Courteous. 4. A law. 5. 
A Greek letter. 

II. Upper Right-hand Square: i. An* artificial 
watercourse. 2. A legal term meaning "in another 
place." 3. A month of the Jewish calendar. 4. To 
lower. 5. Cloth made of flax. 

III. Central Square: i. A spring month. 2. 
Indian meal made into dough and baked. 3. The first 
stomach of ruminants. 4. Sluggish. 5. A musical 
term meaning " slowly." 

IV. Lower Left-hand Square: i. Kingly. 2. 
Overjoyed. 3. A young street Arab. 4. In the man- 
ner of a tilter. 5. Slowly. 

V. Lower Right-hand Square: i. To choose. 
2. The machine of a turner. 3. Air. 4. A game. 5. 
Concise. vashti kaye. 


June, 1903. 


A RENEWAL of interest in stamp-collecting is now 
taking place among young people. There has not 
been a time in the past five years when there has been so 
great a desire to increase the number of stamps in the 
albums of young collectors. This is probably due, in 
some degree, to the large numbers of new issues which 
have appeared recently, as they always arouse special 
attention. The British colonies are furnishing a much 
larger number than ever before in the history of collect- 
ing, and the number of stamps issued by other nations 
is not less than usual. The division of collecting into 
two sections, that of nineteenth-century stamps and that 
of twentieth-century stamps, has produced a desire 
among many to fill in as quickly as possible the spaces 
licking in the albums made for nineteenth-century 
stamps. It is generally recognized that these will be- 
come more and more difficult to obtain as time passes. 
This is particularly true in the cases of all issues which 
were discontinued with the close of the century. 




HONGKONG has issued a new 
series with the King's head, 
which, being printed in two colors, is 
very attractive. The new issue for 
Malta also is very much superior to 
most of the types of King's-head 
stamps which have been made. 


THERE are many very early issues of stamps that 
are still quite easy to obtain. The increase in the 
number of collectors, however, is likely to make these 
difficult to find before long. There are, for example, the 
early stamps of Belgium, Prussia, Saxony, France, Great 
Britain, and Austria. 


r pHE interest of young collectors in South and Cen- 
A tral American stamps does not decrease. There 
are several of these countries, such as Argentine, Chile, 
Paraguay, and Brazil, which, although they issue many 
stamps, never prepare sets mainly for the purpose of sale 
to collectors. This makes their issues especially desir- 

There is a great contrast when one considers the re- 
cent issues of the Colombian Republic. It is said that 
at the present time money is of so little value in that 
country that importers find it more profitable to send 
stamps to New York in payment for goods which they 

buy, asking the American export houses to sell the 
stamps in order to provide funds to pay for goods 
purchased. This certainly appears to be true, when we 
find fifty-cent and one-peso stamps coming all at once in 
several different colors — a thing for which there can be 
no possible excuse. Governments which allow such 
things as this very soon find that collectors turn from 
their stamps and will not have them at all. 

The recent additions to the stamps of Western Aus- 
tralia are not pleasing. Some of the early types of the 
stamps of Victoria have been adapted to Western Aus- 
tralia by the changing of the inscription upon them. 
They were of rather coarse workmanship, and the re- 
placing of the beautiful stamps of the swan type by them 
is not considered to be in any sense a gain. 


SURCHARGED stamps are just as good to collect as 
those which are not surcharged, but great care must 
be exercised in order that one may have genuine speci- 
mens. A stamp which is rarer unsurcharged will never 
be found with a false surcharge; but when a stamp is 
common in unsurcharged condition it should not be col- 
lected surcharged unless one can be certain that it is 
genuine. The principal varieties of the surcharges on 
the stamps of Siam are represented in the catalogues. 

There are many smaller differences which come from 
poor printing or inking which the catalogues do not list, 
because they are of no consequence. If one collects cur- 
rent issues of stamps unused, the best time to get them 
is when they are first issued, as they are always sold at 
the lowest prices at that time. Used specimens, how- 
ever, are usually much cheaper when they have been in 
use a year or more than they are when they first come 
out. It is not a good thing to peel a piece of paper from 
the back of a canceled stamp instead of putting it into 
water, as one is liable to injure the specimen. Cold 
water should be used in the cases of stamps whose color 
is likely to be injured. The best way to measure per- 
forations is to count them. A stamp is perforated ten or 
fifteen when there are that many perforations in ihe 
space of two centimeters. The method of fitting the per- 
forations to a gage is unsatisfactory, because gages are 
seldom made with perfect accuracy, and also perforations 
vary a little as to their regularity. A very good way to 
hinge stamps in an album is to fold the hinge length- 
wise, so that it will hold the stamp across its whole 
width and prevent its turning in the album. Stamps 
hinged in this way do not injure one another in rubbing 
together so much as those that are loosely hinged and 
which sometimes catch together and tear. 



m^^m STAMPS, etc. fg&m 

IflOfl Different stamps pasted on sheets 
IUUU ready to mount in Album, $5.00, 
post free. 

Send for new circular of prices, etc. 
Would you like to try our Approval Sheets at 50% 
discount ? 

Scott Stamp & Coin Co., ,8 East a3d N !^ rk>N . Y . 

O a DIIDDI C PAMJUIA envelope unused entire; 
£Cl rUnrLC UANAUA we have a limited supply 
at 30c. each. 30 varieties Canada: 15c. Send stamp for price lists. 
The British Colonial Stamp Co. , 219 Temple Building, London, Canada. 

300 foreign stamps, 10c; 104 varieties, Bulgaria, Malta, 
jl&c., 10c; 200 varieties, 25c; 300 varieties, SOc; 500 vari- 
eties, $1.25; 1000 varieties, $4.00; 40 varieties, U. S., 10c 
'-132-page list free. Sheets of stamps on approval at 50% 
discount. D. Crowell Stamp Co., 143 Euclid Ave., Cleveland, 0. 

F ft ft STAMPS finely mixed, only ioc. 50 all diff. , 5c. 100 diff. 
yll I Corea, Mexico, etc., 10c 1000 hinges (union), 10c. 4>> 
"wW diff. U.S. and Canada, 10c. Agts. wanted, 50%. List 
free. Old stamps bought. Onion Stamp Co., Dept. D, St. lonis, Mo. 

100 DIFFERENT foreign stamps, 2 cents. 
Only one to each person. Finest approval 
sheets, 50% com. Large list of albums,packets, 
cheap stamps, etc., free. New England 

FREE! A set of beautiful U.S. stamps, face value $6.00, for ad- 
dress of collector and return postage. Finest sheets 50% com. 
Agents wanted. KOLONA STAMP CO., Dept. N, Dayton, Ohio. 

STAMPS 10 ° a11 different Peru > Cuba, Bolivia, 
OIHIurOi Mexico, Argentine, Brazil, Costa Rica, 
Turkey, Persia, Tunis, etc., and ALBUM, OXLY 10c. 
1000 fine mixed, 20c. 1000 hinges, 10c. 60 different 
U. S., 25c. Agents wanted, 50%. 1903 List FREE. 
0. A. Stegman,Dept. D, 5941 Cote Brilliante av., St. Louis, Mo. 


list, 2C 4 large U. S. Cents, 20c 50% disc, on U. S. and 
FOREIGN STAMPS ; seconds at 70% disc. Estab. 1883. 

ITSMP'i FRPP 2 Egypt Salt Tax (large, pretty stamps) for the 
Qlnllliu f AL/O na mes of two collectors and 2c postage. 4 
Guatemala, 1902, Bicolored 5c. Toledo Stamp Co., Toledo, Ohio. 

Austria 1900. i3for8cts.; 8 Honduras iocts.; 10 U. S. Rev. 
long 12 cts. Postage 2 cts. Geo. M. Fisk, Vermont Ave., Toledo, 0. 

STAMPS FREE for addresses of collectors. The more names, 
the more stamps. Album & cata. free. Agts. 50%. 105 In. - 
China, a U. S. worth 25c, W. I., etc., 5c Bullard, Sta. A, Boston. 

CTAiiDC Choice approval sheets at 
W I Mill I VI References required 

Dept. B. 

50% commission. 
100 varieties Foreign, 2c. 

"■PR.ILID* IO var. Japanese to all who apply for sheets at 
* 50% com. W. T. McKay, 673 Broad St., Newark, N. J. 

blAMPb Leewar I ! 


Guiana 12c; 4 Natal 5c; 50 Belgium 20c; 3 
5c; 8 Mauritius 10C ; Album 500 spaces 
6c. Cata. free. The Colonial Co., 2435 Michigan Ave., Chicago. 


Contains something of interest to every Philatelist. Splendid arti- 
cles and entertaining stamp gossip. ONLY 10c. A YEAR. Send 10c 
to-day for a whole year's subscription. If not perfectly satisfied, 
your money refunded without question. Address, 

The Fortnightly Collector, \ c MFTHPn n T Pi 

The J. L. Morrison Co., Publishers. 5 b ' ntTnf ' ol <T, PA. 

TUC IIAIOV TIV l/ll I CD dest, ' o y santnefliesandat - 

InC UHIOT "LI MLLtn fOTd s comfort to ever home 

— in dining-room, sleeping- _ 

room and all places where ' 

flies are troublesome. Clean, 

neat and will not soil orin- 

jure anything. Try them 

once and you will never be 

without them. If not kept by 

dealers, sent prepaid for 20c. 


149 DeKnlb Ave., 

Brooklyn, N. V. 

New Hampshire — West Lebanon, on the Connecticut River. 

Rockland Military Academy > Con- 

NewHampshire Military Academy) dated 

This school develops manliness, 
builds character,trains mind and body 
at the formative time of a boy's life. 
Military system, judicious athletics, 
preparation for College, West Point, 
Annapolis, or business. 50th year. 
E. E. & B. C. French, Principals. 

California, Placer County, Alta. 
A C A OCI7 T_r ATT ls a boys' school in the Sierra 
AUA331Z., Nevada Mountains. It prepares 
for the best colleges and universities. The boys have horses, 
boats and guns, and take frequent camping trips. 

The school has a camp from June to September in the high 
mountains near Lake Tahoe, a region famous for trout fishing and 
hunting. The opportunity to study natural history and geology is 
unsurpassed. A few outsiders are admitted to the camp, and ex- 
cursions are made to Yosemite and other points nearer at hand. 
The Headmaster will be pleased to send information and photo- 
graphs of both school and camp to any who are interested. 

New- York, New York, 13 and 15 W. 86th St. 

Mrs. Leslie Morgan's Boarding and 
Day School for Girls. 

Reopens Wednesday, October first. 
Minnesota, Faribault. 

Shattuck School. 

Of all schools Shattuck has the most bracing climate for health 
and strong constitution. Military department is used as aid to 
mental and moral training. Terms $500. Limit 160. Boys 7 to 12 
separated from older boys in ideal school with country life. Write 
for Catalogue and Illustrated Booklet. Address 

Rev. James Dobbin. 

New-York, Franklin. , , „ 

Delaware Literary Institute. 9 BotTsexes. 

Thorough College Preparation, Complete Business Course with 
Stenography and Typewriting. 12 Instructors. Students under 14 
years preferred. $250. Catalogue. J. Edward Smith, Prin. 

Aeolicraft Model Yacht 

Sails on a tight wire ; goes about automatically 
at each end ; keeps in motion as long as the 
wind blows. 

The Latest Scientific Toy. 
Fascinating to old and young. Beautifully 
made. Single, $2.50 ; pair, for racing, 
$4.50, prepaid. 

]'Send for descriptive booklet free, 
125 West 31st Street, New York City. 



"Monkey Wrench 

The cut is about one-half actual size, 
and illustrates the smallest perfect work- 
ing Monkey Wrench in the world. Made 
of German silver, an ideal watch-charm, 
or just the thing for a class pin. 

These wrenches make most attractive 
and inexpensive souvenirs, whist prizes, 
or favors for the german. You will 
be delighted with them. 


25 Cents Each by Mail 


132 East 20th Street, 



The next millionaire or successful professional or business man you meet 
and see if you think he has any cobwebs on his thinking apparatus. Then find 
out something about his diet, and see if you can discover any connection 
between the two. 

Chances are you'll find he uses the food GRAPE-NUTS which is rich in 
Albumen and Phosphate of Potash (the food elements that restore wasted gray 
matter in the brain). GRAPE-NUTS food also fits his stomach, no matter 
how weak from overwork or sickness that delicate organ may be, for in this 
famous food the process that predigests it (transforming all the starches into 
grape-sugar) takes away none of the blood and strength building elements of 
the whole grains. 

If you are half sick, and don't earn money, WAKE UP. The fault is a 
poorly fed brain that simply cannot work successfully, for it does n't get the right 
kind of material from food. 

On the outside of each package of GRAPE-NUTS you will find a short 
explanation of the fundamental theory of dietetics. 

Read it ! 

Inside the package you'll find the theory demonstrated in the form of crisp, 
nut-like, little golden grains that can be used in a great variety of delicious 
ways in puddings, pies, salads, etc., or plain, with cream, just as they come from 
the package. 

Try it ! 

You are a reader, therefore a thinker — here is 

The Food for Thought 






"We are advertised by 
our loving friends." 


THIS little son of Joseph M. Rose of Roxbury, Mass., has been raised entirely on 
MELLIN'S FOOD. He is now a sturdy, happy and healthy boy, the result 
of having been fed a proper and nourishing food during all his babyhood days. 

Would you like a sample of Mellin's Food to try for your baby ? You can have one free for the asking. 




O'er land or sea, where er you be, 




A compact, convenient lunch — highly nutritious — ready 
in a moment — pure, rich milk and the extract of malted 
grain, condensed to powdered form — prepared with either 
hot or cold water — always healthful and invigorating — 
a delicious food-drink — invaluable in car or sea-sickness. 

In tablet form also— as a food confection — in natural or chocolate flavor. 

Used and sold everywhere — all druggists. 

Q A TVTPT Tk If you are not using h ' let T7P T7T7 

Ox\.JLVJ-A J_>XL< us send you a trial package 1/ t\ Pv P> 
Write for Shakespearean Booklet on Horlick's Malted Milk Beverages. 

Horlick's Food Co., Racine, Wis., U. S. A. 

34 Farringdon Road, London, Eng. Established 1873. 25 St. Peter Street, Montreal, Can. 


St. Nicholas League Advertising Competition No. 25. 

Time to send answers is up June 25th, ipoy. Prizes awarded in August number. 

The Advertising Department of the Century 
Co. needs, for use in a forthcoming St. Nicho- 
las advertisement, a picture of a Rag-Doll. 
Instead of engaging outside talent, it has been 
decided to call upon the artists among the 
League members and St. Nicholas readers 
to furnish what is wanted. Fifty prizes of $ 1 .00 
each will be awarded for the fifty best portraits. 

The idea is to make a really funny picture of 
a rag-doll — a picture that will amuse and in- 
terest any one catching sight of it. You may 
draw it from your own imagination, or from a 
model, and a good photograph of a real doll 
of the regular rag-variety — one that has been 
pounded, and hammered, and "loved to pieces" 
— may turn out just what is wanted. But see 
that you make an amusing picture. We want 
a picture of that treasure of childhood — a rag- 
doll. Not any Sunday-go-to-meeting made- 
up rag-doll made up to look pretty, but the 
doll you used to cry with when all the world 
looked blue, the doll that you used to jump 
upon when you felt you must abuse some- 
body who would n't strike back; the rag-doll 
to whom you told all the things you had 
promised not to tell; the doll that went with into the Great Dark where, without 
the doll, was the Big Loneliness; the doll that 
could n't go to the party where the French 
dolls enjoyed themselves and showed off their 
clothes, but who did n't mind being left out 
in the rain; the doll you could throw at your 
big brother when he really deserved it. We 
want a picture that will show its big staring 
eyes, its limp neck, its toes that turned in like 

the pigeons', and its figure whose outline de- 
pends entirely on circumstances. You may 
show that the rag-doll is homely, and unat- 
tractive, but you ought also to show its nobility 
of character — its patience when sat upon, its 
suffering of evil, its willingness to be carried 
either end up or down, and by the foot or 
hand, waist or head, as baby fingers find most 
convenient. It is surely the rag-doll that first 
led what the President calls " the strenuous 
life." A rag-doll suffers without complaint 
hardships that would make a rough rider turn 
pale; a rag-doll can live on imaginary food, 
dress in make-believe clothes, and thrive on 
treatment that would wreck the constitution 
and ruin the disposition of a golf-ball. 

Every well-regulated family of children has 
its rag-doll — a "Tommy" or "Fanny" or 
"Peter" who has been through the wars, and 
shows like a veteran after his campaigns. 
These are the dolls whose portraits we wish to 
see, — dolls that have been christened in baby's 
tears, squeezed into shape by loving little arms, 
mended by mother-fingers under the midnight- 
lamp, — dolls that have acquired a soul through 
the love of their little owners. 

Think what joy it would be to win the prize 
for your own particular Jemima of the Rag- 
bag, and with blushing pride to show her her 
very own portrait in St. Nicholas — and to 
say with humble joy : "Jemima — behold you 
are the chosen one. After years of patient 
goodness, at last your goodness and — er — er 
beauty have found the fame they merited ! " 

1. The picture must not be larger than 10 
x 12 inches. 

2. Upon the upper left-hand corner of the 
drawing put your name, age, address, and the 
number (25) of the competition. 


3. On the back of the drawing there must 
be the usual indorsement of originality. 

4. Pictures must be mailed to reach the 
judges not later than June 25, 1903. 

5. Address: 

Advertising Competition No. 25, 
St. Nicholas League, The Century Co., Union Square, New York. 



St. Nicholas League Advertising Competition No. 22 — Practical Work in designing 
advertisements for certain St. Nicholas Advertisers as named in St. Nicholas for March, 1903. 

The work submitted in this competition was of unusually excellent quality — not more so in 
the prize-winning designs as in all taken together. Every new competition gives proof that the 
work is highly educational. The ideas are better, the execution is improved, and there is more 
originality shown. We shall find use for some of the designs submitted, but at present we shall 
merely award the 


One First Prize 

$3.00: Fred. Stearns (17), Chicago, 111. (Baker's Chocolate.) 

Tliree Second Prizes 
$3.00 each : 

Five Third Prizes, 
$2.00 each : 

Letty McDonald (14), Louisville, Ky. (Lowney's Bonbons.) 

Rose C. Goode (16), Boydton, Va. (Swift's Hams.) 

Frances R. Despard (14), Fordham Heights, N. Y. (Sorosis Shoes.) 

Irving Chapman (12), Brooklyn, N. Y. (Baker's Chocolate.) 

Richard de Charms, Jr. (14), Bryn Athyn, Pa. (Baker's Cocoa.) 

Geddes Smith (13), Orange, N. J. (Sorosis Shoes.) 

Gerald Mygatt (15), New York City. (Swift's Hams.) 

Alfred P. Clarke (16), Washington, D. C. (Baker's Chocolate.) 

Twenty-six Consolation Prizes, $1.00 each . 

Alice Josephine Goss (16). 
Dorothy Flynn (10). 
Grover Bird Melville (ill 

and another. 
Elizabeth C. Porter (15). 
Marie Margaret Kirkwood (15). 
Frances Ada Mitchell (15). 
Wilkie Gilholm (15). 
Gladys Burgess (13) 
and another. 

Aimee Vervalen (16). 

Marjorie Betts (14). 

Edward Menges (13). 

Carl Chapin (15). 

Ruth E. Crombie (14). 

Helen Owen (14). 

Elizabeth Bacon Hutchings (14). 

Reginald Porter (16). 

H. L. Rossire (16). 

Margaret Minaker (14). 

Clifford H. Pangborn (14). 
George W. Morton (16). 
Katherine Kurz (15). 
Joseph E. Larkins (13). 
Gilbert Pond (9). 
Miriam C. Gould (13). 
Bessie Stockton (14). 
Albert B. Izor (13). 
Chester B. Haring (17). 


To those whose attention may not have been called to the competitions 
jjj of the St. Nicholas League, we desire to say that we believe every one who 
j, will but casually look into these contests will be easily convinced of their 
/j great value as a mental discipline. The contestants are of course spurred 
on by the pecuniary awards accruing to the winners, but the rewards which 
come from the persistent application and patience involved in studying out 
the various problems presented in these contests, which are purposely and 
with much care adapted to the ability of youthful minds, are away and be- 
yond being measured by any mere monetary standard or prize. These 
remarks also apply to the contests proposed from time to time in St. Nich- 
olas by individual advertisers ; all of these are conducted with fairness and 
are as worthy of confidence as though under the immediate supervision of 
the League itself. 







J Stevens Arms and Tool Company 

To the Boys and Girls of the St. Nicholas League, 
and other readers of St. Nicholas. 

We are in the business of making rifles and shot guns, as 
you know, and one of our most popular products is the fine rifle 
known as "the Stevens No. 17 Favorite" — a small, light weapon 
just suitable for young marksmen and sold at $6, a price within 
their reach. We believe that all boys and girls should learn to 
handle fire-arms, as a part of their education and training for 
citizenship. If we did not believe this, we should not make 
rifles for their use. But we recognize that there are excellent 
people who doubt the wisdom of putting guns into the hands of 
young people, even with the utmost precaution. We believe 
also that the boys and girls of the St. Nicholas League can help 
us to convince their parents and guardians that the doubt is not 

We therefore offer to the young readers of the St. Nicholas 
magazine 25 "Stevens No. 17 Favorite Rifles" for the best 25 
statements of reasons why young people, both boys and girls, 
should learn to handle the rifle, and also of the conditions under 
which the use of a rifle should be granted to a boy or girl. 

State your reasons as simply and strongly as possible, in 
not less than 200 words, and mail them before September 1st, 1903, 
to The Stevens Rifle Competition, Room 24, 244 Washington 
Street, Boston, Massachusetts. 

You may secure your arguments and facts wherever you can — and may have 
assistance in preparing your letters; provided the letters are your own : that is, 
you must compose and write the letters yourself. Letters must be written in ink, 
on one side of the paper. What is desired are arguments that will convince your 
elders that it is a good thing that children of a proper age should learn to own, 
care for, and shoot a rifle suited to their strength. Incidents showing benefits 
derived from knowing how to shoot will be especially welcome. Arguments 
showing that accidents result from ignorance rather than from familiarity, or 
proving the value of marksmanship as an inducement to life in the open air, &c, 
&c, are desired. The J. Stevens Arms & Tool Company would like to obtain 
as many good letters as possible, and will gladly pay the writers of any letters 
worth using as advertisements, even if the letters do not win prizes. 

But it is the ideas, the incidents and arguments that are desired — not testi- 
monials. We believe that boys and girls may be the best advocates of their own 
"right to bear arms," and we call upon them to justify our confidence in them. 

Give your name, age, address and mail your letters before September 1st, 1903, to 

Room 24, 244 Washington Street, Boston, Massachusetts. 




In the "'^fMf 

Home ^^^1 

there 's always Jk 

tohen m^^ 



to run 

A package makes five gallons. 
Sold everywhere, or by mail 
for 25 cents. 

CHARLES E. HIRES CO.. Malvern, Pa. 


P m iictcI h pi I tt»P Si ISS 

-. ln\.perfect-ai\dodor 
of moving dirt rather 
approaching clearUirxess. 

Work rr\;\df» e&s 
atvd tKorovtgb 
discomforts - rvo 
Perfect CleatTvlirverj 

My Brother on the opposite 
page makes all my negatives 
for me on ANSCO, the new 
DAYLIGHT loading film 

You Ovight to Try Them 

They have Better Keeping Qualities 
and Greater Latitude than others. 

If your dealer can not supply you, send 

The Anthony and Scovill Co. 

122-124 FiftK Ave. 
New York 

Atla^s Block 






My Brother over there says there 
is nothing like CYKO when 
you want beautiful prints. 

You caLti print it ANYTIME by 

Sije "Different Grades ^/Idapted to 

_SIll ~/~ortJ pfJVegati*)ej. 

Send twenty cents and get a dozen 4x5 
with Developer and Manual. 

Tke Arvtkorvy arid Scovill Co. 

122.124 Fifth Ave. 
New York 

Atlas Block 


who is willing to devote a few 
hours each week to this work can 
earn many dollars selling 

The Saturday 
Evening Post 

Among neighbors and relatives. He 
can begin at once. Absolutely no 
money required to start. Write us 
to-day and we will send the first 
week's supply of ten copies free. 
These are sold at 5 cents each, and 
will provide capital to order the next 
week's supply at wholesale rates. 

$225 in Extra Cash Prizes Next Month 

Booklet containing photographs of some 
of our most successful boy agents, with 
letters telling how they work, sent free. 

The Curtis Publishing Company 
484 Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 

Palestine. s y ri; 


Nursery. Toilet and Bath. 



122 PEARX St. mWTOKK. 


J 5 



is easily reached by the fast train service of the 
Chicago, Union Pacific and North-Western Line. 

the Colorado Special 

fast daily train, one night to Denver from Chicago and the Central 

States (only two nights en route from the Atlantic seaboard), leaves 

Chicago daily 6.30 p. m. Buffet-library cars, drawing-room sleeping 

cars, dining cars (a la carte service), free chair cars and day coaches 

through without change. 

A second daily train, similarly equipped, leaves Chicago 11.30 p. m. 
Personally conducted excursions in tourist sleeping cars. 

All agents sell tickets via this route. 

Write tor particulars to W. B. Kniskern, Passenger^ 

Traffic Manager. C. & N.-W. Ry., Chicago. 

Chicago, Union Pacific and 
North=Western Line 


v <2 




An Index to 
the Volumes of 


A complete, comprehensive index to the first 
twenty=seven volumes of ST. NICHOLAS, containing 
20,000 references arranged analytically, alphabet= 
ically, and classified — now ready. Invaluable to 
every owner of the bound volumes of ST. NICHOLAS. 

Cloth bound, price $4.00. Address 

THE CENTURY CO., Union Square, New York 




The Boy with a 


Doubles his vacation fun. Takes pictures of his sports and games and of the places 
of interest that he visits. But fun is not the only factor — there 's education in 

Any schoolboy or girl can make good pictures with a Brownie Camera — 
all without a dark-room and very inexpensively, now that the Kodak Developing 
Machine has added the finishing touch to the simplifying of photography. 

Brownie Cameras, $1 and $2. RodaKs, $5 to $75 

Brownie Developing Machines 
Kodak Developing Machines - 

- - - $2.00 
$6.00 to $10.00 


Brownie Books, 
Kodak Catalogues, r Free at the dealer s, or by mail. 
Kodak Baby Book, 
Kodak Portfolio, containing 40 prize-winning pictures y 
ten cents, at the dealer s or by mail. 





Where are you going for your vacation this summer, 
and how ? 

There are many delightful places: Lake Chautauqua, 
St. Lawrence River, Adirondack and White Mountains, 
Atlantic Coast, Canada, Niagara Falls, South Shore of 
Lake Erie country, and its lovely Islands ; lakes of the 
Northwest, Yellowstone country and Colorado places. 

The service of the Lake Shore CS, Michigan Southern 
Railway — unequaled for completeness and comfort — 
may be used with greatest advantage for reaching 
all these summer places. 

Privileges — Enjoyable privileges accorded on tickets 
over Lake Shore — stop-over at Lake Chautauqua, 
Niagara Falls, Lake Erie Islands, option of boat or 
rail between Cleveland and Buffalo, etc. 

Summer BooKs — Sent for 6 cents postage by 
undersigned: "Lake Shore Tours," 
"Lake Chautauqua," "Quiet Sum- 
mer Retreats," "Privileges for Lake 
Shore Patrons," "Book of Trains." 

Boston Excursions — Over 
the Lake Shore, July 2, 3, 4 and 5. 
Good until September 1. Very low 
rates. All railways sell in connec- 
tion with Lake Shore. 

Chautauqua Excursions 

—Over Lake Shore, July 3 and 24, 
from all points west of Cleveland. 
Good 30 days. Low rates. 

A. J. SMITH, G. P. CS. T. A., Cleveland, O. 

Book Free 

It tells all about the most 
delightful places in the 
country to spend the summer 
— the famous region of North- 
ern Michigan. including these 
well-known resorts: 

Mackinac Island 
Traverse City 

Send 2c. to cover postage, mention this magazine, 
and we will send you this 52 page book, colored cover, 
200 pictures, list and rates of all hotels, new 1903 
maps, and information about the 
train service on the 

Grand Rapids & 
Indiana Railway 

( The Fishing Line) 

Through sleeping cars daily for the North from Cin- 
cinnati, Louisville, St. Louis, Indianapolis, via Penna 
Lines and Richmond, and from Chicago via Michigan 
Central R.R. and Kalamazoo; low rates from all points. 
Fishermen will be interested in our booklet, " Where 
to Go Fishing," mailed free. 


General Passenger Agent, 
Grand Rapids, Mich. 

Bay View 
Harbor Point 


and C. H. & D. Ry. 

Only 8 Hours 




4 Trains a Day 

Parlor and Dining Cars by day. 
Palace Sleeping and Compart- 
ment Cars by night. 


Traffic Manager, Gen. Pass. Agt. 

200 Custom House Place. CHICA60. 







a Dixou 
pencil made 
with lead just 
right to suit every 
bookkeeper's need or 
whim. Just settle on 
the Dixon pencil that , 
pleases you and you can buy , 
it by name or number ever alter 
and be sure it will never vary 
a shade. 


are made in all degrees of hardness or softness for all 
kinds of work. The Dixon " Stenographer'* pen- 
cil is a favorite exactly suited for stenographic 
work, the leads having been selected by ex- 
pert professional stenographers. A book, 
of information about pencils free on 
request. Ask for booklet R. 

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The July Number 








[The entire contents of this Magazine are covered by the general copyright, and articles must not be reprinted without special permission. ] 


Frontispiece. "'Now,' whispered the Professor, intensely" 770 

Drawn by George Varian. 

A Pair Of Poachers. Story Ralph Henry Barbour 771 

Illustrated by George Varian. 

The Mer-Cupid. Verse Elizabeth Deneson Lance 778 

Illustrated by the author. 

An Alphabet Picnic. Verse Jane E. Lyman 779 

The Seven Kings. Verse William Hale 780 

Illustrated by W. Benda. 

The Little Elfin Nurse. Verse Tudor Jenks 782 

Illustrated by Albertine Randall Wheelan. 

In the Cavalry. Story Frances Courtenay Baylor 784 

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An Indian Village. Sketch JulianRalph 78S 

Illustrated by C. T. Hill. 

Grandpa's Toy. Verse Ruth Titus 791 

Illustrated from photograph. 

The Old Lady from Dover. Nonsense Verse Carolyn Wells 792 

Why is it ? Verse Anna B. Craig 792 

Illustrated by the author. 

The Story of King Arthur and his Knights. A Serial Story Howard Pyle 793 

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The Origin of our Flag. Sketch Parmalee McFadden 805 

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Some Ancient Fleets. Sketch Fanny Gwen Ford 808 

Illustrated by Andr6 Castaigne and J. O. Davidson. 

Picture. A Future General 813 

Drawn by Florence Wyman. 

Marjory's First Celebration. Story A. L. Sykes 814 

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Buenos Aires. The Greatest City South of the Equator. Sketch George M. L. Brown 816 

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A New Arithmetic. Verse George William Daley 826 

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The Snail and the Race-Horse. Verse F.C.Gordon 827 

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Baby White. Verse Mary A. Lathbury 838 

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A Nonsense Calendar. July Carolyn WeUs 839 

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Nature and Science for Young Folks 840 

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OPENING THE SUMMER HOME is a dirty job, but you can 
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HAND SAPOLIO with you. It is the dainty woman's friend, 
and will Keep her finders soft and white under all conditions 
A safeguard in the Manicure's absence. A gentle means to a desirable end 

(See " A Pair of Poachers" page yyj. ) 


Vol. XXX. 

JULY, 1903. 

No. 9. 

Ralph henry 

Tom Pierson strode briskly down the hill, 
fishing-rod in hand. As long as he had been 
in sight of the school he had skulked in the 
shadow of the hedges, for he knew that Joe Sat- 
terlee was looking for him, and the society of 
that youth was the last thing he desired at pres- 
ent. For Joe Satterlee possessed the highly er- 
roneous idea that the best way to catch trout 
was to make as much noise as possible and to 
toss sticks and pebbles into the brook. And so 
Tom, a devout disciple of Izaak Walton, pre- 
ferred to do without his chum when he went 

The time was a quarter after four of a late 
, May afternoon. Tom had tossed the last book 
into his desk and slammed the lid just fifteen 
1 minutes before. From the school hall he had 
sneaked to the dormitory, and secured his rod, 
line, and flies. Even as he had descended warily 
by means of the fire-escape, he had heard the 
voice of Satterlee calling his name in the corridor. 
He had reached the brook path undetected by 
dodging from dormitory to school hall and from school 
hall to engine-house, and so to the protecting shadows 
of the high hedge that marked the western limit of the 
school grounds. Most of the other two dozen pupils of 
Willard's were down on the field, busy with balls and bats. But 
no form of athletics appealed to Tom Pierson as did angling, and to-day, 
with the white clouds chasing one another across the blue sky and the alder- 
bordered brook in sight, he was almost happy. Almost, but not quite ; for even at sixteen life 

Copyright, 1903, by The Century Co. All rights reserved. 




is not always clear of trouble. Tom's trouble 
was " Old Crusty." If it were not for " Old 
Crusty," he thought gloomily, as he swung his 
pole through the new grass, he would be quite 

" Old Crusty's " real name, you must know, 
was Professor Bailey : he was one of the two sub- 
masters ; and as for being old, he was in truth 
scarce over forty — a good ten years younger 
than Dr. Willard, the head-master, to whom, 
for some reason, the fellows never thought of 
referring as " Old Willard." Professor Bailey 
and Tom had never, from the first, got on at 
all well together. The professor believed Tom 
quite capable of mastering mathematics as well 
as others of his form, and had scant patience 
for the boy's sorry performances. Tom believed 
that " Old Crusty " dealt more severely with 
him than with the rest — in short, to use his own 
expression, that the professor "had it in for 
him." One thing is certain : the more the sub- 
master lectured Tom and ridiculed his efforts 
before the class, the more he kept him in after 
school, the less Tom knew of mathematics and 
the wider grew the breach between pupil and 

In all other studies Tom was eminently suc- 
cessful, and there is no doubt but that with a 
better understanding between him and the sub- 
master the former would have made a credita- 
ble showing in the science that was at present 
the bane of his life. But, as it was, Tom hated 
" Old Crusty " with a great hatred, while the 
submaster felt for Tom a large contempt, if not 
an absolute aversion. And it must be acknow- 
ledged that Tom gave him sufficient cause. 

A great deal of this passed through Tom's 
mind as he descended the path and reached the 
shelter of the low-spreading alders that marked 
the course of the brook. But, with the sound 
of the bubbling water in his ears, he put trouble 
behind him. Laying aside his coat, he fitted 
his split-bamboo rod, and studied the sky and 
the pool before him. Then he chose a rather 
worn brown fly, and cast it gently into the cen- 
ter of the limpid basin. Above him the branches 
almost met, and he knew from experience that 
if he hooked a trout he would have to play him 
downstream before he could land him. Ten 
minutes passed, but, save for the inquiring nib- 

ble of a sunfish or similar small fry, he found 
no encouragement. The sun went behind a 
large cloud, and Tom changed his fly for a 
bright red-and-gray one. But even that failed to 
entice the trout. He grew impatient, for the 
school rules required him to be back in bounds 
by half-past five. Presently he drew in his line, 
donned his coat, and made his way noiselessly 
downstream. When he had gone some ten 
yards, creeping from bank to rock and from 
rock to bank again, not without more than once 
filling his scuffed shoes with water, he reached a 
fence, the rails of which reached straight across 
the stream, which here narrowed to a rocky 
cascade. On the trunk of a big willow at one 
side there was a board. On the board was the 
legend : 



Tom winked at the sign, and climbed the 
fence. He did it so nimbly and expeditiously 
as to suggest a certain amount of experience. 
In truth, Tom had crossed that fence before, 
not once but several times, since the trout had 
commenced to bite that spring. If it will make 
his conduct appear any less heinous, it may be 
said in his behalf that he always gave a fair trial 
to that part of the brook within the school 
grounds, and only when success failed him there 
did he defy the law and become a trespasser on 
the estate of " Fernwood." It would be interest- 
ing to know whether old Father Walton always 
respected " No trespassing " signs. Whether 
he did or did not, he appears to have left as a 
heritage to his followers a special code of morals 
where forbidden property is concerned; for often 
a man who will hold the theft of an apple from 
a roadside orchard in utmost horror will not 
hesitate to extract a fish from a neighbor's brook 
and bear it off in complacent, untroubled tri- 
umph. If I have dealt at undue length upon 
this subject, it is because, for the sake of my 
hero, I wish the reader to view such amateur 
poaching as his with as lenient an eye as 

Fernwood held one widely celebrated pool, 
from which, even when all of the other pools 
refused to give up a single fish, the practised 




angler could invariably draw at least a trio of 
good-sized trout. Toward this ideal spot Tom 
Pierson, making his way very quietly that he 
might not disturb and so cause unnecessary 
trouble to a couple of very alert gardeners, 
directed his steps. Once, in spite of care, his 
line became entangled, and once he went to his 
knees in the icy water. Yet both these mis- 
haps but whetted his appetite for the sport 
ahead. When he had gained a spot a dozen 
yards upstream from the big pool, he paused, 
laid aside pole-rod and paraphernalia, and crept 
cautiously forward to reconnoiter. If, he ar- 
gued very plausibly, discovery was to fall to his 
lot, at least it were better to be found guiltless 
of fishing-tackle. He crouched still lower, as, 
over by a clump of dead willows within the 
school bounds, he espied through the trees the 
jauntily appareled Satterlee briskly whipping 
the surface of the brook with unsportsman- 
like energy and apparent disregard of results. 
Tom, however, knew himself to be unobserved, 
so felt no fear from that source. But just as 
the dark waters of the pool came into sight be- 
tween the lapping branches, a sound, close at 
hand and unmistakable as to origin, caused 
his heart to sink with disappointment. There 
would be no fishing for him to-day, for some 
one was already at the pool. The soft click 
of a running reel came plainly to his ears. 

He paused motionless, silent, and scowled 
darkly in the direction of the unseen angler. 
Then he went forward again, peering under the 
leaves. At least he would know who it was 
that had spoiled his sport. Three steps — four ; 
then he suddenly stood upright and gasped 
loudly. His eyes opened until they seemed 
about to pop out of his head, and he rubbed 
them vigorously, as though he doubted their 
evidence. After a moment he again stooped, 
this time sinking almost to his knees, and never 
heeding the icy water that well-nigh benumbed 
his immersed feet. On the farther side of the 
broad pool, in plain sight, stood " Old Crusty " ! 

He was hatless and coatless, and palpitant 
with the excitement of the sport. His lean and 
somewhat sallow face was flushed above the 
prominent cheek-bones, and his gray eyes spar- 
kled brightly in the gloom of the clustering 
branches. He stood lithely erect, the usual 

studious stoop of the shoulders gone for the 
time, and, with one hand firmly grasping the 
butt of his rod and the other guarding the reel, 
was giving every thought to the playing of a 
big trout that, fly in mouth, was darting and 
tugging until the slender basswood bent nearly 
double. As Tom looked, surprised, breathless 
with the excitement of his discovery, the fish 
shot under the shelter of an overhanging boul- 
der, weary and sulky, and the angler began 
slowly to reel in his line. Inch by inch came 
the trout, now without remonstrance, now jump- 
ing and slashing like ten fishes, yet ever nearing 
the captor and the landing-net. It was a glo- 
rious battle, and Tom, forgetting all else, crept 
nearer and nearer through the leaves until, 
hidden only by a screen of alder branches, he 
stood at the upstream edge of the basin. At 
length, resisting heroically, fighting every inch 
of the way, the trout was drawn close in to the 
flat rock where stood his exultant captor. The 
latter reached a hand softly out and seized the 
landing-net. Then, kneeling on the brink of 
the pool, with one leg, he made a sudden dip ; 
there was an instant of swishing, then up came 
net and trout, and — 

At the end of the pool there was a terrifying 
splash, a muttered cry, and Tom, forgetful of 
his precarious footing, sat down suddenly and 
forcibly on a stone, his legs up to the knees in 
water. The landing-net dropped from the an- 
gler's hand, and the trout, suddenly restored to 
his element, dashed madly off, while the reel 
screeched loudly as the line ran out. The 
professor, white of face, stared amazedly at 
Tom. Tom stared defiantly, triumphantly back 
at the professor. For a long, long minute 
the two gazed at each other across the sun- 
flecked water. Then, with a shrug of his shoul- 
ders, " Old Crusty " stooped and recovered his 
rod. When he again faced the boy there was a 
disagreeable expression about his mouth. 

" Well, Pierson," he said as he wound up his 
line, " you 're better at playing the spy than at 
studying your lessons, it seems." 

The blood rushed into Tom's face, but he 
held his tongue. He could well afford to pass 
the insult, he argued with savage triumph ; 
" Old Crusty " was in his power. He had only 
to inform Dr. Willard, and, beyond a doubt, 




the submaster's connection with the school 
would terminate instantly. The head-master 
held poaching to be the deadliest of sins, 
and poaching on Fernwood especially heinous. 
That his enemy was poaching, that he did not 
hold permission to whip the big pool, was evi- 
dent from the confusion into which Tom's 
sudden entry on to the scene had thrown him. 
Yes, " Old Crusty " could vent his anger to his 
heart's content; for, when all was said, Tom 


still held the whip-hand. But then the enor- 
mity of the crime with which he had been 
charged struck Tom with full force, like a blow 
in the face. At Willard's, as at all schools, 
spying, like tale-bearing, was held by the pupils 
to be something far beneath contempt. And 
" Old Crusty" had called him a spy ! The 
blood again dyed the boy's face, and he clam- 
bered to his soaking feet and faced the sub- 
master angrily. 

" It 's a lie ! " he said hotly. " I was not 
spying. I did n't follow you here." 

The submaster raised his eyebrows incredu- 

" Is that the truth ? " he asked. 

" I don't lie," answered Tom, with righteous 
indignation, glaring hatred across the pool. 

" Ah," said the other. " In that case I beg 
your pardon. I retract my remark, Pierson." 

The line was again taut, and now, apparently 
indifferent to the boy's presence, he began to 
play the trout once more, warily, slowly. Tom 
looked on from his rock, the intensity of his 
anger past. He was forced to acknowledge 
that " Old Crusty " had at least apologized 
honestly and fairly ; he wished he had n't : 
somehow, he felt at a disadvantage. And there 
was the enemy proceeding with his wicked 
sport for all the world as though Tom did not 
hold his fate in his hand, as it were ! Tom 
swelled with indignation. 

" I suppose you know you 're poaching ? " 
he asked presently, breaking the long silence. 
The submaster did not turn his head ; he 
merely drew his brows together as though in 
protest at the interruption. Tom scowled. 
What a hardened criminal " Old Crusty " was, 
to be sure ! 

The trout had but little fight left in him 
now, and his journey back across the pool was 
almost without excitement. Only when he felt 
the imminence of the shore did he call upon his 
flagging strength and make one last gallant 
struggle for liberty. To such purpose did he 
battle then, however, that the man at the rod 
was forced to play out a yard or so of line. 
Tom's interest was again engaged, and, much 
against his inclination, he had to acknowledge 
that " Old Crusty" was a master angler. And 
with that thought came another and a strange 
one, and it was just this : 

" Why," he asked himself, " if he can be as 
wonderfully patient with a trout as all that, 
why can't he be a little patient with me ? " 

Suddenly, with the trout almost under the 
bank, the angler paused and looked about him, 
at a loss. Tom instantly divined his quandary ; 
the landing-net was floating on the surface of 
the pool fully three yards distant. Tom 
grinned with malicious satisfaction for a mo- 
ment ; but then — 

" Will you take the rod a minute ? " asked 
" Old Crusty," just as though there was no 
enmity between them. " I '11 have to get that 
net somehow." 

Tom looked from the net to his soaking shoes 
and trousers. There was but one thing to do. 



" I '11 get it," he answered. " I 'm wet 

He threw aside coat and hat, and waded 
in. The professor watched him with expres- 
sionless face. Tom secured the runaway net, 
and came out, dripping to his arm-pits, at the 
submaster's side. But when he offered the net 
the other only asked anxiously : 

" Do you think you can land him ? The 
leader 's almost cut through, and I 'm afraid to 
bring him in any farther." 

Tom hesitated, net in hand. 

" That will be all right," continued the other ; 
" I promise you I '11 never tell that you had a 
hand in it." 

Tom flushed. 

" I was n't thinking of that," he said. " Hold 
him steady, and I '11 get him." 

He knelt on the rock and looked for the 
trout. It was nearly two yards away and well 
under the water. He put one foot over the 
edge and groped about until he found a sup- 
port for it below the surface. But even then 
his arm was too short to get the net to the 

" Can't you coax him in another foot ? " he 
asked anxiously. 

" I '11 try," answered " Old Crusty." " If the 
line will hold — " 

He wound gingerly. The gleaming sides of 
the trout came toward the surface. Tom 
reached out with the net, slipped it quietly into 
the pool, and moved it toward the prey. 

" Now ! " whispered the professor, intensely. 

Up came the landing-net, and with it, floun- 
dering mightily and casting the glittering drops 
into the air, came the captive. 

" Well done ! " cried the professor, laying 
aside his rod. Praise from an enemy is the 
sweetest praise of all, and Tom's heart gave a 
bound. The professor seized the trout, took it 
from the net, and, laying it upon the bank, re- 
moved the hook from its gasping mouth. Then, 
with a finger crooked through its gill, he held it 
admiringly aloft. 

" Is n't he a beauty ? " he asked. 

" You bet ! " replied Tom, in awe-struck 
tones. " The biggest I ever saw in this stream. 
Must be two pounds and a half, sir ? " 

" Well, two pounds easily," answered " Old 

Crusty," shutting one eye and hefting his trout- 
ship knowingly. 

"What will you do with him?" asked Tom. 

The other smiled. For answer he knelt again 
on the rock, and, removing his hold, allowed 
the fish to slide from his open palms back into 
the pool. Tom's eyes grew round with surprise. 
The trout, after one brief moment of amazement 
quite as vast as the boy's, scuttled from sight. 
Tom turned questioning eyes upon the pro- 
fessor. The latter shrugged his shoulders and 

" I don't want him ; he would be of no use 
to me, Pierson. All I want is the joy of catch- 
ing him." 

He turned, donned his hat and coat, and be- 
gan to wind up his line, examining the frayed 
leader critically. Tom began to feel uncomfor- 
table ; it seemed to him that the truce should be 
at an end now, and that he ought to take his 
departure. But he did n't ; he merely stood by 
and watched. Presently the professor turned 
to him again, a rather rueful smile on his lips. 

" Pierson," he said, " what are you going to do 
with me now that you 've caught me here where 
poachers and trespassers are forbidden ? " 

Tom dropped his gaze, but made no answer. 
The submaster thrust the sections of his rod into 
a brown leather case and slipped his fly-book 
into his coat pocket. Then he said suddenly : 

" Look here, Pierson, I 'm going to ask a 
favor of you : don't say anything about this to 
the doctor, please." 

Tom's momentary qualm of pity disappeared. 
"Old Crusty" was begging for mercy! The 
boy experienced the glow of proud satisfaction 
felt by the gladiator of old when, his foot on the 
neck of the vanquished opponent, he heard the 
crowded Colosseum burst into applause. But 
with the elation of the conqueror was mingled 
the disappointment of one who sees the shatter- 
ing of an idol. " Old Crusty " had been to him 
the personification of injustice and tyranny; but 
never once had Tom doubted his honesty or 
courage. An enemy he had been, but an hon- 
ored one. And now the honesty was stripped 
away. " Old Crusty " had not the courage to 
stand up like a man and take his punishment, 
but had descended so low as to beg his enemy 
to aid him in the cowardly concealment of his 




crime ! And this man had dared to call him a 
spy ! Tom gulped in an effort to restrain his 
angry indignation. 

And all the while he had been looking across 
the pool, and so was not aware that the sub- 
master had been studying his face very intently, 
or that the submaster's lips held a queer little 
smile oddly at variance with the character of a 
detected criminal at the mercy of his enemy. 

The detected criminal continued his specious 

" You see, Pierson," he said, " there 's just one 
thing that can happen to a person in my posi- 
tion convicted of poaching, and that 's dis- 
charge. Of course you don't recognize much 
difference between discharge and resignation; 
but I do : the difference is apparent when it 
comes to obtaining a new position. A dis- 
charged instructor is a hopeless proposition ; 
one who has resigned may, in the course of 
time, find another place. And so what I ask 
you to do is to keep quiet and give me time to 

" Oh ! " said Tom. His faith in mankind was 
reestablished. He had misjudged the' enemy. 
After all, " Old Crusty " was worthy of his 
hatred. He was very glad. But before he 
could find an answer the other went on : 

" If I were a younger man, Pierson, my 
chances would be better. But at my time of 
life losing my position means a good deal. You 
must see that. And — could you give me until 
to-morrow evening ? " 

Tom nodded without looking up. He wanted 
to say something, he did n't at all know what. 
But the elation was all gone, and he felt — oh, 
miserably mean ! 

" Thank you," said the submaster, pleasantly. 
" And now I think we 'd best go home. You 
should get those wet clothes off as soon as pos- 
sible." He looked at his watch. " I had no 
idea it was so late," he muttered. " We '11 have 
to hurry." He moved off along the edge of the 
stream, and Tom recovered coat and hat and 
followed. He did n't feel happy. His thoughts 
were fixed on matters other than his footing, 
and more than once he went into the brook. 
Presently he broke the silence. 

"Are you going to — resign, sir ? " 

" Does n't that seem best, Pierson ? " 

"I — I don't know," muttered Tom. There 
was another silence, lasting for a few yards. 
Then, "I — I wish you would n't, sir," he said 
with a gulp. 

" Eh ? " The submaster paused, turned, and 
faced him in surprise. " What 's that, Pier- 
son ? " 

Tom cleared his throat. 

" I said — I wished you would n't ; resign, 
you know." 

" What do you mean ? " asked the other. 
" Do you want to have me discharged, or — " 

" No, sir, I don't," answered the boy, getting 
his voice back. "I — I 'm not going to tell at 
all, sir — ever! " 

" How 's that ? " asked the submaster, in 
puzzled tones. " You don't like me the least bit 
in the world, my boy ; in fact, I 'm not sure 
you don't hate me heartily. Does n't it strike 
you that you 've got your chance now ? Get 
rid of me, Pierson, and there '11 be no mathe- 
matics — for a while." 

" I don't want to get rid of you," muttered 
Tom, shamefacedly. "I — I did n't like you : 
you 'd never let me ; you 've always been as 
hard on me as you could be. I can get those 
lessons — I know I can ! — if you '11 only not 
be down on me. I did hate you, sir," — he 
looked up with a gleam of the old defiance, — 
" but I don't any longer." 

" Why ? " asked " Old Crusty," after a mo- 
ment, very quietly and kindly. Tom shook his 

"I don't know — exactly. I guess because 
you 're a good trout-fisher, and you begged 
my pardon, and — and you treated me like — 
like — " He faltered and came to a pause, 
at a loss for words. But the other nodded 
his head as though he understood. 

" I see," he muttered. Then, " Look here, 
Pierson," he said, " I see that I 've been mis- 
taken about you ; I 've been greatly at fault. 
I tell you so frankly ; and — I 'm sorry. If I 
were going to remain I think you and I would 
get on a lot better together." 

" Yes, sir," answered Tom, eagerly. " And 
— and could n't you stay, sir ? " 

The other was silent a moment, looking 
smilingly at the boy's bent head. At length, 
" If I should accept of your — ah — mercy, 




Pierson, it would have to be understood that 
there was no bargain between us. I think 
we 'd get on better, you and I, but I would n't 
buy your silence. If you ever needed a wig- 
ging or any other punishment I 'd give it to 
you. Would you agree to that ? " 

" I don't want 
any old bargain, 
sir," Tom cried. 
" And I '11 take 
the punishment. 
I 'm — I 'm not 
a baby ! " 

"Good! Shake 
hands. Now let 
us hurry home." 

" Yes, sir, but 
— just a minute, 
please." Tom 
darted into the 
wood and came 
back with his 
rod and flies. 
He did not try 
to conceal them, 
but he looked 
sheepishly up 
into the sub- 
master's face. 
This was a study 
of conflicting 
emotions. Inthe 
end amusement 
got the better of 
the others, and 
he viewed Tom 
with a broad 

"And so there 
is a pair of us, 
eh ? " he asked. 

" Yes, sir," answered Tom. The submaster 
laughed softly and put one hand companionably 
upon the boy's shoulder. 

" Pierson," he said, " suppose you and I 
agree to reform?" 

" All right, sir." 

" No more poaching, eh ? After this we '11 
stick to our own preserves." 

" Yes, sir. I 'm willing if you are." 


" Because, after all, we can't improve on that 
trite old proverb which says that honesty is the 
best policy, can we ? " 

" No, sir," Tom responded. 
They left the thicket together and began the 
ascent of the meadow hill. Twilight was gather- 
ing, and a sharp- 
edged crescent 
of silver glowed 
in the evening 
sky above the 
tower of the 
school hall. It 
was the submas- 
ter who broke 
the silence first. 
"And yet there 
are fine trout in 
the big pool," he 
said musingly. 
Tom sighed 
" Are n't there, 
though?" he 

" I took one 
out one day 
last spring that 
weighed nearly 
three pounds," 
continued the 

Tom sighed 
again. " Did 
you ? " he asked 

"Yes; and — 
look here, Pier- 
son, tell me, how 
would you like 
to fish there as 
often as you wanted through the trout season ? "" 
" I 'd like it ! " answered Tom, briefly and 
succinctly, wishing, nevertheless, that the sub- 
master would n't pursue such a harrowing 

" Would you ? Well, now, I have n't the 
least doubt in the world but that I can obtain 
permission for you. Mr. Greenway is a friend 
of mine, and while he would n't care to allow 

77 8 


the whole school to go in there, I 'm certain think it ; and I plead guilty to a measure of 

that — " deceit. But I think you '11 forgive it, my boy, 

" A friend of yours ? " gasped Tom. " Then because it has led to — well, to a better un- 

— then — " derstanding between us. Don't you think it 

The submaster smiled apologetically as he has ? " 

replied : " Yes, sir," answered Tom, wondering but 

" No, Pierson, I was n't poaching." happy. 

Tom stared in amazement and dismay. "Good; and — Hello, there 's the bell!" 

' ; But — but you said — " cried the submaster. " Let 's run for it ! " 

" No, I did n't say it, but I allowed you to And they did. 


By Elizabeth Deneson Lance. 

The little mer-cupid that lives in the sea, 

He 's just as busy as he can be; 

He carries the shells of palest pink, 

All written over with mermen's ink, 

To the mermaids combing their golden hair, 

Down in the coral caverns there; 
And what they find in a roseate shell 
I '11 never, no, never, no, never tell! 
But if you will hold a shell to your ear, 
Some message of love you may faintly hear. 

ri:i-±% k rcf ' 


By Jane E. Lyman. 

Said the teacher, " 'T would be a nice thing 
If the school had a picnic this spring. 
And, I say, if we should, let us lunch in the 
And a basket let each of us bring." 

So first came Miss Anna Adair, 
With Apples — enough and to spare. 
Betty Brown, it is said, brought the Butter and 
And Bananas, as well, for her share. 

Cora Clay carried Cookies and Cake, 
The best that her mother could make ; 
While the chronicle states that Doughnuts 
and Dates 
Were donated by Dorothy Drake. 

Elizabeth Earl, I am told, 

Brought Eggs that were hard-boiled and 

Fanny Farley had Figs, and Miss Genevieve 

All the Grapes that her basket would hold. 

There was Honey from Harriet Hart, 
While Miss Imogen Ives for her part 
Furnished lovely Ice-cream. Jenny Joy, it 
would seem, 
Preferred giving Jam in a tart. 

There was Kale from Miss Katherine Kane, 
Which she stated was hard to obtain ; 
While Lettuce so green and Lemons were 
In the basket of Lilian Lane. 

Matilda Minerva Mentyce 
Thought Mush and Molasses was nice; 
While Nora O Neill, after puzzling a deal, 
Brought Nuts, by her mother's advice. 

Olivia Odell, it is true, 
Brought Olives, and Oranges, too ; 
But Penelope Pry carried Pickles and Pie, 
And Parsnips prepared in a stew. 

The clever Miss Queenie McQuade 
Some delightful Quince-jelly had made. 
Red Radishes came in Ruth Robinson's name, 
And Rice-pudding she proudly displayed. 

The Soup and the Salad, we learn, 
Were brought by Miss Sylvia Stern; 
While Tilly Tyree she provided the Tea, 
And Una, her sister, the Urn. 

Some Vinegar (purest white wine), 
Was the gift of Victoria Vine ; 
While the Waffles, they say, of Miss Winifred 
Were voted uncommonly fine. 

Miss Xenia X. made a stop 
On her way at a baker's neat shop, 
And invested in Buns — the real hot-cross ones. 
Each marked with an X on the top. 

Yetta Young, very weary and hot, 
Brought a great jug of Yeast to the spot : 
'T would be handy, she said, if they needed 
more bread ; 
But the flour she completely forgot. 

Said Miss Zilpha, the teacher : " I see 
You have plenty, dear children, for me ; 
No lunch did / bring, for never a thing 
Could I think of beginning with Z." 

The picnic was charming, they say, 
And the children were happy and gay ; 
But, strange to relate, though so simply they ate, 
They were all of them ill the next day ! 


Once, long ago, in Norway, 
That home of vikings brave, 

Bastioned by cloud-capped mountains, 
Lashed by the sea's wild wave, 

It chanced that while deer-stalking 
The good king lost his way, 

And with his courtiers weary 
The forest roamed all day. 

" Wake up, wake up, thou farmer ! 
Get up and clear the way ! 
Make room now for thy betters ; 
The king dines here to-day ! " 

Up sprang the sturdy yeoman ; 

With hot blood red his cheek ; 
Trembling, erect with anger, 

Like pine on wind-swept peak. 

At length, when strength and courage 
Alike were well-nigh spent, 

They spied a lowly cottage, 
To which their steps they bent. 

There, singing in his doorway, 

A peasant sat at rest, 
His white locks touched with glory 

Caught from the crimson west; 

Over his knees lay folded 

A torn net old and red, 
And through its tangled meshes 

His busy fingers sped. 

" What ho ! what ho ! good fellow," 

A surly courtier said. 
" Come share with us thy bounty ! 

Refuse and thou art dead ! 

Athwart the open doorway 
He stood with flashing eye, 

And to the haughty stranger 
Flung back his proud reply : 

" Who dares to storm this castle 
Is no wise man to see ; 
111 fares it with all foemen, 
Of high or low degree. 

" One king makes here sad showing, 
For here abide six kings ! 
And we give way to no man, 
Nor fear we earthly things ! " 

Stepping within the doorway, 
He pointed with just pride 

To where, around the table, 
At supper, side by side, 


7 8l 

In all the strength of manhood, 
Sat his five stalwart sons, 

Mighty of bone and sinew, 
Aglow, as one who runs. 

The purse of gold, albeit, 
Left not the royal hand ; 

The king had found his equal — 
None prouder in the land. 

"'ONE king makes here sad showing, 


Chiding his surly minion, 

Much moved, the king thus spake, 
Begging the lordly peasant 

His purse of gold to take : 

He neither fawned nor slighted ; 

Not he, this host so bold ! 
He knelt — but to be knighted. 

So ends the story old. 

" This house, indeed, is royal ! 
Kingly in heart are ye! 
A braver band of vikings 

Bides not in kingdoms three ! " 

Would that this tale of Norway 
And Norway's rugged breed 

Might teach that hearts are noble 
And heroes kings indeed ! 




w^-». .'K^J*1| 



Jp^ii''/ V 



is^v ■ 

v T-. 

' '''* 




■ , ~-2aU' 







Tudor Jenks. 

Shall I tell you what I saw 
Near the border of a wood, 
While strolling all alone one quiet summer 
day ? 

I saw the winged elves, 
Each in his pointed hood, 
In flight about some milkweed tufts all white 
upon a spray. 

Like playful butterflies 
They darted to and fro, 
Chasing little shuttlecocks, the tiny tufted seeds. 
Their hands held trumpet-wise, 
The dainty elves would blow 
These floating, falling playthings in and out 
among the weeds. 

As I gazed I heard a voice 
Like the chirping of a bird ; 
So, bending closer to the ground, I saw a little 

With her finger on her lips ; 

And these warning words I heard 
Whenever in their playful flight the fairies nearer 
came : 



" Oh, hush ! oh, hush ! Be still, 

Or else my elfling wakes ! " <# 

And then I saw the nursling elf, where in a 
pod it lay ; 

Upon soft cotton tufts, 
Like snow in dainty flakes, 
All cuddled soft the baby slept that sunny 
summer day. 

But just then one little imp, 
Bent upon some roguish trick, 
Alighted on the milkweed stem above the 
cradled elf; 

And I heard the little nurse, 

As she turned with motion quick, 
Cry: " You ought to be ashamed of your self- 
ish elfish self!" 

So she broke a little twig, 

And she chased the little sprite, 
Who replied with tiny squealings to the tiny 
elfin blows. 

But as they came my way, 
I took to headlong flight, 
For she might have changed me to a cat or 
polliwog — who knows ? 

ANCHA'S first vivid memory of her 
father dated from the day she climbed 
up into his lap, after watching him un- 
buckle his sword-belt and lay a clat- 
tering scabbard aside on the wicker 
sofa in their quarters, saying : " Now, little girl, 
come to father." She had been full of ques- 
tions that day, and she long remembered some 
of the answers. Why did Captain Simpson say 
that it was " ridiculous for her to be named 
Pancha," for instance, was one of her in- 
quiries, and she always recalled the twinkle 
with which he said : " Well, childie, if you are a 
Smith you have got to do something about it ! 
Some people make themselves into Smythes, 
and some into Smithers, but I stick to plain 
John S. myself; and I and your mother called 
you Pancha by adoption, because you were born 
in New Mexico, and our ' striker ' and your 
nurse and the housemaid were all Mexicans, 
who were always confounding your name with 
your mother's until they hit upon that variation 
of it. Don't you mind what Simpson says. 
There are finer-sounding names than Smith, but 
none more honest ; and you have a first name 
that makes you an individual and not a tribe, 
which is sensible and convenient enough, as you 
will find." 

" I don't like Captain Simpson one bit," said 
Pancha, putting an arm around her father's 

"Why not? What has he been doing to 
you ? " 

" Nothing — only I don't. He laughs when 
I falls down and hurts myself. And he treats his 
dog awfully. And he smiles all the time at me — 
all the time. And he says, ' That child 's a per- 

fect noosumps ' when I picks up his cap, just 
to look at it." 

" Well, I think you 'd do well not to meddle 
with anything belonging to the officers when 
they drop in here ; mama has often forbidden 
it, you know." 

"But I don't — only sometimes. And Mr. 
Aisquith he does n't mind. Why, I wore his key- 
chain a week ! And he caught me a taran — " 

" Tarantula — " 

" And put it in a glass bottle, and took me 
for a walk ; and we took out the stopper, and 
threw it, ker-plunk! right into the river. He 's 
just as nice as he can be, and rides me picka- 
back, and tells me stories, and gallops me on 
his horse. And the doctor he 's good to me, 
too, and to Mary Vanderpool ; he lets us rum- 
mage all through his trunk and round the office, 
and gives us — " 

" Tamarinds and prunes. Yes, I have heard 
about that," said the captain. 

" And lets us try how mustard-plasters bites, 
and play with anything he 's got. But Captain 
Simpson is just horrid." 

From the first, " ossifers," as she called them, 
had been a fruitful source of trouble to Pancha. 

" I 'm an army girl," she would say. " I 'm 
in the cavalry. The cavalry 's the best thing 
you can be in." 

In various ways and degrees the officers 
were quite a trial to Pancha, who was one of 
three little girls at a large military post. There 
was Mr. Grigsby, the handsome, laughing young 
lieutenant who had just joined, and Major Pop- 
ham, both of whom delighted to tease her. 

It seemed to Pancha that almost nobody was 
to be trusted. Once when Mr. Grigsby gave 



Vol. XXX.— 99. 785 




her a huge box of candy, and took her to 
Sunday morning inspection, she took his hand, 
and walking confidentially with him across the 
parade-ground, with much swishing of her 
starched skirts and a great sense of the dignity 
of the occasion, she was so struck by the ap- 
pearance of an infantry company that she cried 
out in admiration : " My! What a nice lot of 
twins ! " 

It seemed to Pancha as if her father was 
about her best and safest friend. He gave her 
a mustang pony, which one of the soldiers " gen- 
tled " for her, and in the course of their daily 
rides over the prairie she found she could tell her 
father almost everything. He never repeated 
what she said, nor told anybody her secrets. 
Why, she told him once where there was a nest 
of wild-turkey eggs that she and Mary Vander- 
pool had found at the foot of some mesquit- 
bushes, and — will you believe it ? — he never 
told a soul nor touched an egg ! Mary, who had 
bound herself by the most awful vows never to 
reveal the fact, went straight away and told all 
about it to Mrs. Murphy's nine boys. But 
" dear father " was " perfectly mum," though 
Pancha turned hot and cold and red and pale 
at dinner when he said to the doctor, " Jones, 
I 've news for you — splendid." It was only 
that the regiment was ordered in, but she 
did n't know that. It was Pancha's mother 
who turned pale when she saw a long blue en- 
velope on her husband's desk marked " official 
business " and postmarked " Washington, D. C." 

" I perfectly hate orders," Pancha would re- 
mark. " It seems to me they always mean 
moving. Everything is pulled to pieces, and I 
have to leave all my precious things behind — 
my toys and everything ; my tea-set always gets 
broken ; and there are n't ever enough bag- 
gage-wagons for anybody 'cept Uncle Sam and 
his old things ! And father never has saved up 
enough money yet. And mama can't sell her 
things ; she has to give them away. And I 
just wish Uncle Sam would try it hisself, and 
see if he likes to lend his piano to be scratched 
all up, and go to Maine on nothing at all. 
That 's what good orders is. And bad orders 
is just more awful ! The cavalry always just has 
to go to fight the Indians. Newton of the dra- 
goons is going to have our quarters now. I 

hope he '11 be good to my dollies, and play with 
them lots, and put Buffalo Bill and White 
Cloud and Jack the Giant-Killer and Queen 
Elizabeth to bed every night himself. Oh, I 
am so glad we belong to the cavalry ! " 

This last was the constant refrain of this young 
person. The uniform, the band, the officers, the 
soldiers, the drums, the very laundress of " our 
regiment," as she fondly called it, were in every 
way so infinitely and unquestionably superior to 
every other in the army that it was not a thing 
to be discussed even. " Celia Arthur could n't 
help being born in the infantry, could she, 
mama ? " she would say. " But it must be very 

" The colonel of our regiment " was a far 
more important person in Pancha's eyes than 
the President of the United States, of whom she 
never thought with much deference after being 
told that he " was not in the cavalry, and never 
would be." " Why is n't our colonel the Presi- 
dent? I guess it 's because he does n't want to 
be — that's all." The colonel in due season 
died, and she put all her dolls in the very deep- 
est crape, and told everybody how very " sor- 
rowful " it was. 

Ordinarily she would n't wear a hat that 
had not some yellow in it — "just to show 
that I belong to the cavalry, mama " ; and on 
the journey that next followed, something hap- 
pened that was to be a source of cruel mortifi- 
cation. The command was camped near Fort 
Nimporteou, and all around it was a large band 
of Indians coming in to receive their yearly 
presents from the government. Pancha was 
in her father's tent, and was watching her 
mother put her baby brother to bed, when she 
suddenly caught sight of an Indian who had 
wriggled himself under the tent and was lying 
flat on his stomach, his head supported by his 
hand, gazing at the mother and the two children. 
He smiled and laid his hands on his lips and 
cried " Amigo ! " as he caught Pancha's startled 
look. But she was frightened quite out of her 
wits. She shrieked, and her mother, who had 
lived with the fear of Indians in her heart for 
many a year, shrieked likewise. The sentinel out- 
side lost his head, discharged his gun, and rushed 
in. The drummer beat to general quarters. The 
whole camp was aroused, and several hundred 




Indians in two minutes were in a perfect up- 
roar. The sentinel seized the offending Indian 
by the throat and dragged him out of the tent. 
Three Indians seized him from behind ; a 
dozen soldiers sprang after them. "Duke," Pan- 
cha's lifelong friend and playmate, a fine mastiff, 
sprang savagely upon the officer who next tried 
to enter the tent. Captain Smith, to save his 
friend's life, was obliged to draw his pistol and 
kill Duke. But for Captain Smith's coolness 
and courage, the whole thing might have ended 
very differently — ended in a massacre. But in 
half an hour he had soothed and silenced by tact 
and force, and had dispersed to renewed slum- 
bers both soldiers and Indians ; and it was only 
when he got back into his tent that he sat down 
wearily and said: "Wife, that was a close call. 
For mercy's sake never shriek again when we 
are in the midst of an Indian encampment. We 
are but a handful, and they would wipe us out 
in five minutes. When I saw old Rolling 
Thunder and fifty like him running for your 
tent, my heart froze in me, for a moment. It 's 
a lucky thing for us all that I speak the sign- 
language as well as I do." 

Mrs. Smith sat down on the camp-bed, as 
white as her husband. " We are safe now," 
she whispered. 

" Oh, yes ; perfectly so. I '11 see that no 
Indians get in to scare you again, dear," he re- 
plied. " Come here, Pancha — how you trem- 
ble! Don't be frightened, dear. It 's all right 
now, and father is here." 

But Pancha refused to be comforted, and 
trembled and wept all night ; and for a month 
she was so downhearted that her parents were 
much troubled about her. 

" It 's that night, and Duke, and mama, and 
everything," she would say, with many sobs. 
" I 'm not fit to belong to the cavalry. It was 
the first time I ever was in action, and I screamed 
like a perfect gump — a civilian. Duke got 
killed, and we all were nearly massacred — and 
I 'm so ashamed, papa ! I 'm not fit to be 
your little daughter. I ought to be the sutler's 
daughter, and — and live in Boston, where there 
are n't any Indians." 

Her father assured her that the service was 
full of men who wanted to run awav but 
did n't, and who felt like screaming but 

would n't; and in time Pancha was consoled, 
and sat on his lap as of old, her head against 
his breast, chastened and comforted. 

" I was always telling Mary Vanderpool 
what I 'd do if ever the Indians came, 'cause 
/ belonged to the cavalry!" she would say. 

It was about three months after this that 
Company A took part in an Indian fight, and 
covered itself with glory. At the news, which 
was brought back to the garrison, Pancha was 
much affected. 

"They are braver than me, papa, — I 've got 
to own it, — and I was born in the cavalry. If 
it was n't for the Indians and — Uncle Sam — 
the army would be an awfully nice place, 
would n't it, papa ? Mr. Jones — not Jones of 
the Sixth, but Jones of the Seventh — says that 
the army ought to be debolished. He says it 's 
no place for a man of brains. But he 's in the 
artillery. It 's just like the artillery. Mr. 
Grigsby says he \s 'just West Pointed,' and 
he '11 get over it. You are a man of brains, 
and you Jove the service, like me, don't you ? " 

" Yes, I do. And I think every fellow in it 
who does n't ought to be put out of it, Panchita 
mine. He 's a disgrace to his colors." 

" That 's what I think, papa. Give me the 
cavalry or give me death. That is n't what 
Patrick Henry said; but that 's what /say." 

"And so do I," said Captain Smith, as he 
lifted the little daughter in his arms. This, too, 
was one of Pancha's sweet memories. 

Not long after this Captain Smith went off 
scouting. Rolling Thunder and his braves set 
out on the war-path, and in the next fierce con- 
flict Pancha's father fell, severely, though not 
fatally, wounded. 

Pancha and her mother took the wounded 
soldier back home to " the States." 

" Mama," said Pancha to her mother, as 
they drew up around their parlor fire when the 
first snow came, " mama, it is most sorrowful 
for us to have to leave the service, even if we 
do have papa with us — that is, till brother John 
is big enough to go to the Point. But I shall 
always be in the army, — in my heart, you know, 
mama, — in the army and in the cavalry." 

" Yes, darling, I know. And so shall your 
father, and so shall I." 


By Julian Ralph. 

It was just at the western edge of the Cana- an encampment. I had often seen tepees from 
dian prairie, where the Rocky Mountains sixty the car-windows, but here was my first chance 
miles away rose with unsubstantial ruggedness to visit them, to study and to touch them, 
above the horizon, shining in a mild summer Nothing could be more picturesque than the 

appearance they put on 
from a distance. Very 
symmetrical in shape, 
rounded at the bottom, 
and terminating with a 
bunch of poles that sug- 
gested a plume at the nar- 
row upper end of each, 
they were so like all their 
pictures I had seen, and 
yet so much prettier, that 
the sight made my pulses 
leap with some of the for- 
gotten instincts of boy- 
hood as I almost ran to- 
ward them. Some ponies 
were tethered near by, and 
solitary figures of Indian 
men were stalking over the 
brown grass to or from the 
tents, and presently I heard 
the hubbub of barking curs 
and Indian girls and boys 
at play. As I came quite 
near to the little huddle of 
tents, they took on a red- 
dish hue which made them 
still prettier. Squaws be- 
gan to appear, advancing 
from them with their hands 
shading their eyes as they 
scanned me. Then I saw 


sky, as I have heard that icebergs sometimes do, almost each tepee was one of those rude and 

like crystal tipped with mother-of-pearl. The rustic frames between the poles of which dogs 

prairie was slightly rolling, as if it were to begin are harnessed, and on which light burdens are 

that series of leaps by which, farther on, it dragged from place to place. By one tepee a 

rushed upward to meet the mountains. On a skin was being dried, tightly stretched upon a 

rounded hill I saw half a dozen Indian tepees — framework and standing in the sun. 

C= .f-'HII-i--' 



But for a mission chapel on a neighboring 
hill and the distant roofs of Calgary nestling 
beside a shining stream, I might as well have 
left civilization, so unspoiled by it was this In- 
dian village. True, the bucks all wore round 

tent, which had a circular base, was about eight 
feet in diameter. In the center were the dead 
embers of a fire. 

By my side, as I squatted down, was a little 
Indian girl, scraping a buffalo horn with broken 


felt hats such as we see on Chinamen in New 
York, but otherwise they were in full and 
shabby Indian regalia. 

Of course the children and women all begged 
for money ; but as I scattered small coin among 
them, there could be no doubt of my friendli- 
ness, and I was quickly made welcome. A 
half-breed loafing about in the camp made 
himself serviceable as an interpreter ; and when 
it was explained that I hailed from just as far 
away as the interpreter could point, and had 
never seen an Indian camp before, all the lib- 
erty of a child was given me. 

Invited by the interpreter to enter one of the 
tents, I did so ; and there I saw, for the first 
time, an Indian baby. As I remember it, the 

glass. Her oval face, olive skin, and large 
black eyes were sufficient to have made her 
pretty, if only she had better known the use of 
soap. Her father sat opposite me, smoking a 
pipe; his squaw was beading a moccasin by 
his side. All around the circuit of the tent, as 
if to close the space between it and the ground, 
was a circle of blankets and rags ; but there 
was little difference between the rags and the 
blankets. The tent, so picturesque from a dis- 
tance, proved to be mere muslin, black at the 
top from smoke, reddish brown nearer the 
ground, and literally riddled with holes burned 
through it by flying sparks from the fire. The 
buck brought out two or three hunting arrows, 
which he tried to sell me, and exposed a very 



ornamental " quirt " (as they call a whip in the 
prairies), and then the interpreter said some- 
thing about a "papoose." 

Although I saw at a distance several squaws 


carrying their babies slung in a blanket at their 
backs, I saw no baby in the tent, and I asked if 
there was one. He said something to the squaw, 
and she, quite pleased with the idea that I should 
like to see her offspring,- threw herself forward 
on her hands and knees, crept over to me, and, 
reaching behind me, brought out the baby. I 
had been within an inch of sitting on it ! But 
even when she handed it to me I had no idea 
that it was a baby. It was rather like a stuffed 
stocking without any foot. It was a heavy, 
solid package laced across and across with 
leather thongs, and about the shape of a big 
rye loaf. Possessing a general acquaintance 

with babies, and a liking for them, I still did 
not know how to hold this one, or which end 
of the bundle to keep uppermost, or what 
kind of a thing it was. 

All this must have been ex- 
pressed upon my face, for the 
mother, with quite a kindly smile 
and a not very barbaric laugh, 
took hold of the end of the stock- 
ing-like package while I held it, 
and, after unloosing the top, 
turned it down as a man rolls up 
the bottoms of his trousers, or as 
one peels a banana. As she began 
this operation, there emerged from 
the top of the stocking a little cop- 
per-colored cranium with a sparse 
showing of inky black hair. In 
another second there peered out 
above this envelope a really in- 
teresting copper-colored baby 
face. The tiny Indian was alive, 
for it smiled; but it uttered no 
sound. It was shown to me with 
great pride, and then to the inter- 
\ preter, who demonstrated his fa- 
miliarity with babies by poking it 
in the cheek with his clumsy finger. 
The little baby smiled, but uttered 
no sound. After holding it for a 
little while I returned it to the 
mother. She drew the covering 
up over the baby's head more 
loosely than before, and deliber- 
ately tossed it back again behind 
me — not with a rough motion, 
but as a lady throws her work into her basket. 
The little redskin's arms and body and feet 
were all wrapped firmly in the stocking-like en- 
velope, which was left loose above its shoulders 
and around its head. 

That is all I know about Indian babies. To 
the reader's mind it must be quite clear that 
there is a great deal more for me and him to 
find out. How a baby done up like a let- 
ter in an envelope can manage to breathe is 
only one of the queries that will suggest them- 
selves to the mind of the average expert in 
" infantology " ; but as I saw no more Indian 
babies, I cannot answer any of these queries. 


By Ruth Titus. 

When grandpa was a little boy — 

And that 's a far-off day, 
For now grandpa is very old, 

And never thinks of play- 
Grandpa lived in the good old times 

When "everything was right"; 
They had no carpets on the floors, 

And they read by candle-light. 

And his toy-horse looks very crude, 

Its tail is like a broom ; 
The wagon is high and funny, 

And has but little room. 

But grandpa thinks it the nicest toy 
That ever yet was made; 

He would not for an automobile 
This queer old wagon trade. 

I suppose when you are grandpas 
You '11 think your toys were great 

'Way back in the days when you were younj; 
But you '11 be out of date. 


By Carolyn Wells. 

There was an old lady of Dover 
Who baked a fine apple turnover. 
But the cat came that way, 
And she watched with dismay 
The overturn of her turnover. 


By Anna B. Craig. 


JWwlO^- *—>• *- / UX>oD ) - 

Why is it the boys 
Will make so much noise, 
And their playthings break up and destroy ? 
And father will say, 
" That 's only their way ; 
I did so when I was a boy." 


By Howard Pyle. 

hill where the road ascends against the sky thou 
mayst behold the ten fair towers of the castle of 
Grantmesnle lying in the valley beneath." And 
Sir Pellias said: " Let us make haste! For I am 
wonderfully desirous for to behold that place." 
So they all set spurs to their horses and rode up 
that hill at a hard -gallop. And when they had 
reached the top of the hill, Sir Pellias beheld that 
it was an exceedingly fair castle, built altogether 
without of a red stone, and containing many 
buildings within, the walls whereof were built of 
red brick. And within the walls and behind the 
castle there lay a little town. Then after a little 
Sir Pellias said: "Certes, maiden, yonder is a 
very fair estate. And-yon glade of young trees 
nigh unto the castle appeareth to be a very 
cheerful spot. Wherefore at that place I and 
my companions-at-arms will take up our inn. 

Chapter IX. 


Now Sir Pellias and his party and the damsel 
Parcenet and her party traveled onward through 
that Forest of Arroy until that afternoon they 
came unto the boundaries thereof where the 
woodlands ceased, and many fields and mea- 
dows, with farms and crofts and plantations of 
trees, all abloom with tender leaves and fragrant 
blossoms, lay spread out beneath the warm and 
pleasant sky. 

And Sir Pellias said: " This is indeed a pleas- 
ant place into which we have come." Whereat 
the damsel Parcenet was right well pleased, for 
she said: " Sir Pellias, I am very glad that that There, likewise, will we cause to be set up three 
which thou seest belikes thee, for all this land pavilions for to shelter us by day and by night, 
belongeth unto the Lady Ettard, and it is my Meantime I beseech of thee that thou wilt go 
home. Moreover, from the top of yonder high unto the lady, thy mistress, and say unto her 
* Copyrighted, 1902, by Howard Pyle. All rights reserved. 
Vol. XXX.— ioo-ioi. 793 




that a knight hath come unto this place who, 
albeit he knoweth her not, holdeth that the Lady 
Guinevere of Camelot is the fairest lady in all 
of the world. And I beseech thee to tell thy lady 
that I am here to maintain that saying against 
all comers at the peril of my body. Wherefore, 
if the lady have any champion for to undertake 
battle in her behalf, him will I meet in yonder 
field to-morrow at midday a little before I eat 
my midday meal." 

" Sir Pellias," said the damsel, " I will even do 
as thou desirest of me. And though I may 
not wish that thou mayst be the victor in that 
encounter, yet am I soothly sorry for to depart 
from thee." 

Thereupon the twain took leave of each 
other with very good will and much kindli- 
ness of disposition, and the maiden and the 
three pages went the one way, and Sir Pellias 
and his two companions and the several atten- 
dants they had brought with them went unto the 
glade of young trees, as Sir Pellias had ordained. 

And there they had set up for them three 
pavilions in the shade of the trees : the one 
pavilion of fair white cloth for Sir Pellias, the 
second of green cloth for Sir Mador de la Porte, 
and the third of scarlet cloth for Sir Brandiles. 
And over each pavilion they had set a banner 
emblazoned with the device of that knight unto 
whom the pavilion appertained. 

So when the next day had come, and when 
midday was nigh at hand, Sir Pellias went 
forth into that field before the castle as he had 
promised to do. And he was clad all from 
head to foot in the red armor which he had 
taken from the body of Sir Adresack, and in 
that armor he presented a very terrible ap- 
pearance. And he rode up and down before 
the castle walls, crying in a loud voice in chal- 
lenge to any one who might contest his claim 
that Lady Guinevere was the most beautiful 
lady in all the world. And after a time had 
passed, the drawbridge of the castle was let 
fall, and there issued forth a knight, very 
huge of frame and exceedingly haughty of 
demeanor. And the knight was clad altogether 
from head to foot in green armor. Upon 
either arm he wore a green sleeve, whence he 
was entitled the Knight of the Green Sleeves. 

And that Green Knight rode forward toward 
Sir Pellias, and when Sir Pellias had told him 
his name he said: " Ha, Sir Pellias, it is a great 
honor for me to have to do with so famous a 
knight; for who is there in courts of chivalry 
who hath not heard of thee ? Now if I have 
the good fortune for to overthrow thee, then 
will all thy honor become my honor. Now, 
in return for thy courtesy, I give unto thee my 
name and title, which is Sir Engamore of 
Malverat, further known as the Knight of the 
Green Sleeves. And I may furthermore tell 
thee that I am the champion unto the Lady 
Ettard of Grantmesnle, and that I have de- 
fended her credit unto peerless beauty for 
eleven months, and that against all comers. 
And if I do successfully defend it for one month 
longer, then do I become lord of her hand and 
of all this fair estate. Wherefore I am pre- 
pared to do the uttermost in my power." 

Thereupon, in an instant, each knight drave 
upon the other with such terrible speed that the 
ground shook and trembled beneath the beat- 
ing of their horses' feet. And the spear of Sir 
Engamore of Malverat burst into as many as 
thirty pieces ; but the spear of Sir Pellias held, 
so that the Green Knight was hurtled so violently 
from out of his saddle that he smote the earth 
above a spear's-length behind his horse. 

And when those who had stood upon the 
walls beheld how entirely the Green Knight 
was overthrown in the encounter, they lifted up 
their voices in great outcry ; for there was no 
other such knight as Sir Engamore in all those 
parts. And more especially did the Lady 
Ettard make great outcry : for Sir Engamore 
was very much beloved by her ; wherefore, see- 
ing him so violently flung down upon the 
ground, she deemed that perhaps he had been 

Then three esquires ran to Sir Engamore and 
lifted him up and unlaced his helm for to give 
him air. And they beheld that he was not 
slain, but only in a deep swoon. And by and 
by he opened his eyes and came back unto his 
senses once more, and demanded with great 
vehemence that he might continue that contest 
with Sir Pellias afoot and with swords. But Sir 
Pellias would not have it so. " Nay, Sir Enga- 
more," quoth he ; "I will not fight thee so 




serious a quarrel as that, for I have no such de- 
spite against thee." 

And whilst they thus stood together, there 
issued from out the castle the Lady Ettard and 
an exceedingly gay and comely court of knights 
and ladies, and these came across the meadow 
toward where Sir Pellias and the others stood. 
And when Sir Pellias beheld her approaching, 
he drew his misericorde and cut the thongs 
of his helmet, and took the helmet off of his 
head, and thus went forward bareheaded for 
to meet her. And when he had come nigh 
to her he beheld that she was many times more 
beautiful than that image of her painted upon 
the ivory panel he had aforetime beheld, where- 
fore his heart went forth unto her with a very 
great deal of strength of liking. So, clad all 
in armor as he was, he knelt down upon the 
grass, and set his hands palm to palm before 
her. And he said : " Lady, I do very greatly 
crave thy forgiveness that I should thus have 
done battle against thy credit. For, excepting 
that I did that endeavor for my queen, I would 
rather in another case have been thy champion 
than that of any lady in all of the world." 

Now at that time Sir Pellias wore about his 
neck that collar of emeralds and opal stones and 
gold which the Lady of the Lake had given to 
him. Wherefore, when the Lady Ettard looked 
upon him, that necklace drew her heart unto him 
with very great enchantment. Wherefore she 
smiled upon Sir Pellias very cheerfully, and gave 
him her hand, and caused him to arise from 
that place where he knelt. And she said to 
him : " Sir Knight, thou art a very famous 
warrior; for I suppose there is not anybody 
who knoweth aught of chivalry but has heard 
of the fame of Sir Pellias, the Gentle Knight. 
Wherefore, though my champion Sir Engamore 
of Malverat hath heretofore overthrown all 
comers, yet he need not feel very much 
ashamed for to have been overthrown by so 
terribly strong a knight." 

Then Sir Pellias was very glad of the kind 
words which the Lady Ettard spake unto him. 
And he made her known unto Sir Brandiles 
and Sir Mador de la Porte. Unto these knights, 
also, the Lady Ettard spake very graciously, 
being moved thereto by the extraordinary re- 
gard she felt toward Sir Pellias. Then the Lady 

Ettard besought Sir Pellias and Sir Brandiles 
and Sir Mador de la Porte that they would come 
into the castle and refresh themselves. 

And the Lady Ettard set a very fine feast, 
and Sir Pellias and Sir Brandiles and Sir Mador 
de la Porte, who had by this time divested them- 
selves of their armor and clothed themselves in 
fine raiment, with ornaments of gold and silver, 
came, pursuant to her invitation. And upon 
her right hand she placed Sir Pellias, and upon 
her left hand she placed Sir Engamore of Mal- 
verat; and Sir Engamore was still more cast 
down, for, until now, he had always sat upon 
the right hand of the Lady Ettard. 

Now, because Sir Pellias wore that wonderful 
collar which the Lady of the Lake had given 
unto him, the Lady Ettard could not keep her 
regard from him. And when it came time for 
those foreign knights to quit the castle, she be- 
sought Sir Pellias that he would stay awhile 

So by and by Sir Brandiles and Sir Mador 
de la Porte went back unto their pavilions, and 
Sir Pellias remained in the castle of Grantmesnle 
for a while longer. 

Now that night the Lady Ettard let to be 
made a supper for herself and Sir Pellias, and 
at that supper she and Sir Pellias alone sat at 
the table, and the damsel Parcenet waited in 
attendance upon the lady. And whilst they 
ate, certain young pages and esquires played 
very sweetly upon harps, and certain maidens 
who were attendant upon the court of the lady 
sang so sweetly that it expanded the hearts of 
the listener for to hear them. And Sir Pellias 
was enchanted with the sweetness of the music 
and with the beauty of the Lady Ettard. 

And as Sir Pellias sat beside her, the Lady 
Ettard had continually held in observation that 
wonderful collar of gold and emeralds and opal 
stones which was hung about his neck ; and 
she coveted that collar exceedingly. Wherefore 
she now said unto Sir Pellias : " Sir Knight, 
thou mayst indeed do me great favor if thou 
hast a mind for to do so." And Sir Pellias. 
said : " What favor may I do thee, lady ? " 
And the Lady Ettard said : " Thou mayst give 
unto me that collar which hangeth about thy 

Then the countenance of Sir Pellias fell, and 




he said : " Lady, I may not do that ; for that 
collar came unto me in such an extraordinary 
fashion that I may not part it from me." 

Then the Lady Ettard said : " Why mayst 
thou not part it from thee, Sir Pellias ? " 

Thereupon Sir Pellias told her all of that 
extraordinary adventure with the Lady of the 
Lake, and of how that faerie lady had given the 
collar unto him. And the Lady Ettard was 
greatly astonished, and she said : " Sir Pellias, 
I do beseech thee, then, for to let me wear it 
for a little while." 

Then Sir Pellias could refuse her no longer, 
and he said : " Lady, thou shalt have it to wear 
for a while." Thereupon he took the collar 
from off his neck, and he hung it about the 
neck of the Lady Ettard. 

Then immediately all the virtue of that jewel 
departed from Sir Pellias, and the Lady Ettard 
looked upon him with altogether different eyes 
from those with which she had before regarded 
him. And she said unto herself: " Hah ! What 
ailed me that I should have been so enchanted 
with that knight to the discredit of my cham- 
pion who hath served me so faithfully ? " And 
again she said unto herself: " Lo, is not mine 
enemy here in my power ? Wherefore should 
I not take full measure of revenge upon him 
for all that which he hath done unto us of 
Grantmesnle ? " 

So by and by she made an excuse and arose 
and left Sir Pellias. And she took Parcenet 
aside, and she said unto the damsel, " Go and 
fetch me hither presently a powerful sleeping- 
draught." And Parcenet said, " Lady, what 
would you do?" And the Lady Ettard said, 
" No matter." And Parcenet said, " Would 
you give unto that noble knight a sleeping- 
draught ? " And the lady said, " I would." 
And Parcenet said, " Lady, that would surely 
be an ill thing to do unto one who sitteth in 
peace at your table and eateth of your salt." 
Whereunto the Lady Ettard said, " Take thou 
no care as to that, girl, but go thou straightway 
and do as I bid thee." 

Then Parcenet saw that it was not wise for 
her to disobey the lady. Wherefore she went 
straightway and did as she was bidden. So 
she brought the sleeping-draught to the lady in 
a chalice of pure wine. And the Lady Ettard 

took the chalice and said to Sir Pellias: "Take 
thou this chalice of wine, Sir Knight, and drink 
it unto me according to the measure of that 
good will thou hast unto me." 

Now Parcenet stood behind her lady's chair, 
and when Sir Pellias took the chalice she 
frowned and shook her head at him. But Sir 
Pellias saw it not, for he was intoxicated with 
the beauty of the Lady Ettard and with the 
enchantment of the collar of emeralds and opal 
stones and gold. 

So Sir Pellias took the chalice and drank the 
wine. And in a little while his head waxed 
exceeding heavy, as it were of lead. And he 
bowed his head upon the table, and the Lady 
Ettard sat watching him very strangely. Then 
by and by she said : " Sir Knight, dost thou 
sleep ? " And Sir Pellias replied not, for the 
fumes of the sleeping-draught had ascended 
into his brains and he slept. 

Then the Lady Ettard arose laughing, and she 
smote her hands together and summoned her 
male attendants, and she said to them : " Take 
this knight away, and convey him into an inner 
apartment. And when ye have brought him 
thither, strip him of his gay clothes and of his 
ornaments, and leave him only his linen under- 
vestment. And when ye have done that, lay 
him upon a pallet and convey him out of the 
castle and into that meadow beneath the walls 
where he overthrew Sir Engamore." 

And when the damsel Parcenet heard this 
she was greatly afflicted, so that she withdrew 
herself apart and wept for Sir Pellias. But the 
others took Sir Pellias and did unto him as the 
Lady Ettard had commanded. 

Now when the next morning had come, Sir 
Pellias awoke with the sun shining into his 
face, and he wist not at all where he was. 
Above him, upon the top of the wall, was a 
great concourse of people, who laughed at him 
and mocked at him. And the Lady Ettard 
gazed down at him from a window, and he saw 
that she laughed and made herself merry. 

Then the postern-gate was opened of a sud- 
den, and the damsel Parcenet came out thence. 
And her face was wet with tears, and she bore 
in her hand a flame- colored mantle. Then she 
ran to Sir Pellias and said, "Thou good and 
gentle knight, take this and wrap thyself in it." 




And he said, " Maiden, I thank thee." So he 
took the mantle and wrapped himself in it, and 
went his way toward his pavilion wrapped in 
that mantle. 

And when Sir Pellias had reached his pavilion, 

mtemt couero Sir Pellias 
miB} a cloaB* &jp & *sr 

sorrow over him. Moreover, they were ex- 
ceedingly wroth at the shame that had been 
put upon him; wherefore they said: "We will 
get us aid from Camelot, and we will burst 
open yonder castle, and we will fetch the Lady 
Ettard hither for to 
crave thy pardon for 
this affront, even if we 
have to drag her hither 
by the hair of her head." 
And Sir Pellias lifted 
not his head, but he 
groaned and he said : 
" Let be, messires ; un- 
der no circumstances 
shall ye do that thing, 
she being a woman. 
As it is, I would defend 
her honor, even though 
I died in that defense. 
For I know not whether 
I am bewitched or what 
it is that ails me, for I 
cannot tear my heart 
away from her." 

And Sir Brandiles 
and Sir Mador de la 
Porte were greatly as- 
tonished at his words, 
wherefore they said the 
one to the other, " Cer- 
tes that lady hath laid 
some powerful spell 
upon him." So after a 
while he bade them go 
away and leave him; 
so they did, though not 
with any good will 

And so Sir Pellias 
lay there for all that 
day until the afternoon 
had come. Then he 
aroused himself and 

Drawn by Howard Pyle. 

he entered it and threw himself on his face upon 
his couch, and lay there without saying any- 
thing. And when those two good knights, 
Sir Brandiles and Mador de la Porte, heard of 
that plight in which Sir Pellias returned, they 
hastened to him where he lay and made much 

bade an esquire to bring him his armor. Upon 
this Sir Brandiles and Sir Mador de la Porte 
hastened unto him and said, " What have ye a 
mind to do, Sir Pellias ? " And Sir Pellias said, 
" I am going to try to win me unto the Lady 
Ettard's presence." And they said unto him, 

79 8 



" What madness is this?" And Sir Pellias said: 
" I know not. But meseems that an I do not 
behold the Lady Ettard and talk unto her I 
shall surely die of longing to see her." And 
they said, " This is madness." Whereunto he 
replied, " I know not whether it is madness or 
whether I am caught in some enchantment." 

Then the esquire fetched unto Sir Pellias his 
armor as he had commanded, and they clad him 
in it, so that he was altogether red from top to 
toe. And straightway he mounted his horse and 
rode out toward the castle of Grantmesnle. 

Now when the Lady Ettard beheld Sir Pel- 
lias again parading the meadow below the 
castle, she called unto her six of her best 
knights, and she said unto them : " Behold, 
messires, yonder is that knight who brought so 
much shame upon us yesterday. Now I bid 
ye for to go forth against him and to punish 
him as he deserveth." 

So those six knights did as she bade them, 
and they straightway armed themselves and 
rode forth against Sir Pellias. But when Sir 
Pellias beheld them approach, his heart over- 
flowed with fury, and he shouted in a great 
voice and drave forward against them. And 
for a while they withstood him ; but he was not 
to be withstood, wherefore they presently brake 
from before him and fled, and he pursued them 
with great fury about that field, and smote four of 
them down from their horses. Then, when 
there were but two of those knights remaining, 
Sir Pellias of a sudden ceased to fight, and he 
cried out unto those two knights, " Messires, I 
surrender myself unto ye"; whereat they were 
greatly astonished, for they were entirely filled 
with the fear of his strength. So they came 
and laid hands upon Sir Pellias and took him 
toward the castle. And Sir Pellias said unto him- 
self: " Now they will bring me unto the Lady 
Ettard, and I shall have speech with her." For 
it was for this that he had suffered himself to be 
taken by those two knights. 

But it was not to be as Sir Pellias willed it. 
For when they had brought Sir Pellias close 
under the castle, the Lady Ettard called unto 
them from a window in the wall ; and she said : 
" Take that knight, and tie his hands behind 
his back and his feet beneath his horse, and 
send him back unto his companions." 

And Sir Pellias lifted up his eyes unto that 
window, and he cried in great despair : " Lady, 
it was unto thee I surrendered, and not unto 
these unworthy knights." 

But the lady cried out all the more vehe- 
mently, " Drive him hence, for I do hate the 
sight of him." 

So those two knights did as the Lady Ettard 
said : they took Sir Pellias, and bound him 
hand and foot, and allowed his horse for to 
bear him back unto his companions in that wise. 

Then when Sir Brandiles and Sir Mador de 
la Porte beheld how Sir Pellias came unto them, 
with his hands bound behind his back and his 
feet tied beneath his horse, they were altogether 
filled with grief and despair. So they loosed 
those cords from about his hands and feet, and 
they cried out upon Sir Pellias : " Sir Knight, 
Sir Knight, art thou not ashamed to permit 
such infamy as this ? " 

And Sir Pellias shook and trembled as though 
with an ague, and he cried out in great despair, 
" I care not what happens unto me ! " And they 
said, " Not unto thyself, Sir Knight ; but what 
shame thou dost bring upon King Arthur and 
his Round Table ! " And Sir Pellias cried aloud 
with a great and terrible voice, " I care not for 
them, either ! " 

All of this befell as I have told it unto you 
because of the powerful enchantment of that 
collar of emeralds and opal stones and gold 
which Sir Pellias had given unto the Lady Et- 
tard and which she continually wore ; for it was 
beyond the power of any man to withstand the 
enchantment of that collar. 

But how Sir Pellias recovered from this spell 
of the enchanted collar, and what befell him, 
shall be told you later. In the meantime, 
listen and I shall tell ye of certain things that 
befell at the court of King Arthur after Sir 
Pellias had left it, and of what followed those 

Chapter X. 


Now in the same measure that Queen Guine- 
vere felt high regard for Sir Pellias, in that same 
degree she felt misliking for Sir Gawaine. For, 




though Sir Gawaine was said of all men to have 
a silver tongue, and whilst he could upon occa- 
sion talk in such a manner as to beguile others 
unto his will, yet he was of a quick temper and 
very proud and haughty. Wherefore he could 
not always brook that the Lady Guinevere 
should command him unto her will as she did 
other knights at that court. 

Now it happened upon an occasion that Sir 
Gawaine and Sir Grifiet and Sir Constantine 
of Cornwall sat talking with five ladies of 
the queen's court in a pleached garden that 
lay beneath the tower of the Lady Guine- 
vere, and they made very pleasant discourse 

At that time the day was extraordinarily 
balmy, and, it being well toward the sloping of 
the afternoon, those lords and ladies were clad 
in very gay attire. And of all who were there 
Sir Gawaine was the most gaily clad; for he 
was dressed in sky-blue silk, embroidered with 
threads of silver. And Sir Gawaine was playing 
upon the lute and singing a ballad in an ex- 
ceedingly pleasing voice. 

And now I must tell that there was a fawn- 
colored greyhound of which Queen Guinevere 
was wonderfully fond — so much so that she had 
adorned its neck with a collar of gold inset with 
carbuncles. Now whilst that Sir Gawaine was 
playing upon the lute and singing a ballad the 
hound came running into that garden, and his 
feet were wet and soiled with earth. So hearing 
Sir Gawaine singing and playing upon the lute, 
that hound ran unto him and leaped up upon 
him. At this Sir Gawaine was very wroth ; 
wherefore he clenched his hand and smote the 
hound upon the head with the knuckles thereof, 
so that the hound lifted up his voice with great 

But at that very hour Queen Guinevere hap- 
pened to be passing nigh to an upper window, 
and, looking out, beheld that blow, whereat she 
was greatly offended ; and she called out from 
her window : " Why dost thou smite my dog, 
messire ? " 

And those lords and ladies who were below 
in the garden were very much surprised and 
were greatly abashed to find that their queen 
was so nigh unto them that she might behold 
all that they did. But Sir Gawaine spake up 

very boldly, saying : " Thy dog did affront me, 
lady, and, certes, whosoever affronteth me, him 
I strike." 

Then Queen Guinevere grew very angry with 
Sir Gawaine ; wherefore she said : " Thy speech 
is overbold, messire." And Sir Gawaine said : 
" Not overbold, lady ; but only bold enough for 
to maintain my rights." 

At this speech the Lady Guinevere's face 
flamed like fire and her eyes shone very bright, 
and she said : " I am sure that thou dost for- 
get unto whom thou speakest, Sir Knight." 
Whereat Sir Gawaine smiled very bitterly, and 
said : " And thou, lady, dost not remember that 
I am the son of a king so powerful that he 
never needed help from any other king for to 
maintain his rights." 

At these words all those who were there fell 
as silent as though they were turned into stone, 
for that speech was exceedingly bold and 
haughty. And the Lady Guinevere also was 
silent for a long time, endeavoring to recover 
herself from that speech. And when she spake 
it was as though she was half smothered by her 
anger. And she said : " Sir Knight, thou art 
proud and arrogant beyond measure ; for I did 
never hear of any one who dared to give reply 
unto his queen as thou hast spoken unto me. 
But this is my court, and I may command in it 
as I choose. Wherefore I do now bid thee for 
to begone, and to show thy face no more, either 
here, or in hall, or in any of the places where I 
hold my court. For thou art an offense unto 
me; wherefore in none of these places shalt 
thou have leave to show thy face until thou 
dost ask my pardon for the affront which thou 
hast put upon me." 

Then Sir Gawaine arose and bowed very 
low to Queen Guinevere, and he said : " Lady, 
I go from thy court. Nor will I return thither- 
ward until thou art willing for to tell me that 
thou art sorry for the discourteous way in which 
thou hast entreated me now and at other times 
before my peers." 

So saying, Sir Gawaine took his leave from 
that place ; nor did he turn his head nor look 
behind him. And Queen Guinevere went into 
her chamber, and wept in secret for anger and 
for shame. For indeed she was greatly grieved 
at what had befallen ; yet was she so proud that 




she would in no wise have recalled the words 
that she had spoken, even had she been able 
to do so. 

Now when the news of that quarrel had gone 
about the castle it came unto the ears of Sir 
Ewaine. So Sir Ewaine went straightway unto 
Sir Gawaine and asked him what was ado; 
and Sir Gawaine, who was like one distraught 
and in great despair, told him everything. 

Then Sir Ewaine said : " Thou wert certainly 
wrong for to speak unto the queen as thou 
didst. Ne'theless, an thou art banished from 
this court, I will go with thee ; for thou art my 
cousin german and my companion, and my 
heart cleaveth unto thee." 

So Sir Ewaine went unto King Arthur and 
he said : " Lord, my cousin Sir Gawaine hath 
been banished from this court by the queen. 
And though I may not say that he hath not 
deserved that punishment, yet I would fain 
crave thy leave for to go along with him." 

At this King Arthur was very grieved ; but 
he maintained a steadfast countenance, and 
said : " Messire, I will not stay thee from going 
where it pleases thee. As for thy cousin, I dare 
say he gave the queen such great offense that 
she could not do otherwise than as she did." 

So both Sir Ewaine and Sir Gawaine went 
unto their inn and commanded their esquires to 
arm them ; then they, with their esquires, went 
forth from Camelot, betaking their way toward 
the forest lands. 

Thus those two knights and their esquires 
traveled for all that day until the gray of the 
eventide, what time the birds were singing their 
last songs ere closing their eyes for the night. 
So those knights were afeard lest they should 
not find kindly lodging before the night should 
descend upon them, and they talked together 
concerning that thing. But as they came to 
the top of a certain hill, they beheld below them 
a valley, very fair and well tilled, with many 
cottages and farm-crofts. And in the midst of 
that valley was a goodly abbey, very fair to look 
upon, where they were hospitably entertained 
by the good abbot and his well-fed monks. 

The next morning, when they had been rid- 
ing for two or three hours or more, they beheld 
before them the borders of the Forest of Usk all 

green and shady with thin foliage and very 
cheerful in the warmth of the springtide day. 
And lo ! immediately at the edge of the wood- 
land there stood a fair strong castle of gray 
stone with windows of glass shining very bright 
against the sky, and before the castle was a 
tree on which was hung a shield of sable bear- 
ing the device of three white goshawks. But 
that which was very extraordinary was that in 
front of that shield there stood seven young 
damsels exceedingly fair of face, and that these 
seven damsels continually offered a great deal 
of insult to that shield. For some of those 
damsels smote it ever and anon with peeled 
rods of osier, and others flung lumps of clay 
upon it, so that the shield was greatly defaced 
therewith. Now nigh to the shield was a very 
noble-appearing knight clad all in black armor 
and seated upon a black war-horse, and it was 
very plain to be seen that the shield belonged 
unto the knight, for otherwise he had no shield; 
yet that knight offered no protest either by 
word or by act to stay those ladies from offer- 
ing affront thereunto. 

Then Sir Ewaine said unto Sir Gawaine, 
" That is a very strange thing that I behold ; 
belike one of us is to encounter yonder knight." 
And Sir Gawaine said, " Maybe so." Then 
Sir Ewaine said, " If it be so, then I will un- 
dertake the adventure." And Sir Gawaine 
said, " Not so, for I will undertake it myself, I 
being the elder of us twain." 

So he set spurs to his horse and he drave 
down upon those damsels who offered affront 
in that way to the sable shield. And he set 
his spear in rest and he shouted in a loud 
voice, "Get ye away! Get ye away!" And 
when those damsels beheld the armed knight 
riding at them, they fled away before him. 

Then the Sable Knight, who sat not a great 
distance away, rode forward in a very stately 
manner unto Sir Gawaine, and he said, " Sir 
Knight, why dost thou interfere with those la- 
dies ? " Whereunto Sir Gawaine replied, " Be- 
cause they offered insult unto what appeared to 
me to be a noble and knightly shield." 

But the Sable Knight spake very haughtily 
and said, " Sir Knight, that shield belongeth 
unto me, and I do assure thee that I am very 
well able for to take care of it without the 



80 1 

interference of any other defender." And Sir 
Gawaine said, " It would appear not, Sir 

Then the Sable Knight said, " Messire, an 
thou thinkest that thou art better able to take 

heLaby of %LaBe site 
fry flje Fountain iaAnoy, 

care of that shield than I, I think that thou 
wouldst do very well to make thy words good 
with thy body." And Sir Gawaine said, " I 
will endeavor to show thee that I am better able 
to guard that shield than thou who ownest it." 
Then the Sable Knight, without further ado, 

rode unto the sycamore-tree, and took down 
thence the shield from where it hung. And 
he dressed his shield upon his arm and made 
him ready for defense. And Sir Gawaine like- 
wise made him ready for defense. 

Now when the peo- 
ple of that castle per- 
ceived that a combat 
of arms was toward, 
they crowded in great 
numbers to the walls, 
so that there were as 
many as two score la- 
dies and esquires and 
folk of different degrees 
looking down upon that 
field of battle from the 

So when those two 
knights were altogether 
prepared, Sir Ewaine 
gave the signal for as- 
sault, and each knight 
shouted aloud and 
drave spurs into his 
charger and rushed 
forward to the assault 
with a noise like thun- 
der for loudness. 

Now Sir Gawaine 
thought to easily over- 
come his adversary in 
this assault and to cast 
him down from out of 
his saddle, for there 
was hardly any knight 
in all the world equal 
unto him for prowess. 
And, indeed, he had 
never yet been un- 
horsed in combat, ex- 
cepting by King Ar- 
thur. So when those 
two smote the one 
against the other into the midst of their de- 
fenses Sir Gawaine looked to behold his ad- 
versary to fall from his saddle. But it was 
not so, for in that attack Sir Gawaine's spear 
burst into many pieces, but the spear of the 
Sable Knight held, so that Sir Gawaine was cast 

Drawn by Howard PyU. 



[ July, 

with great violence out of the saddle, smiting 
the dust with a terrible noise of falling. And 
so astonished was Sir Gawaine at that fall that 
it appeared unto him not as though he fell 
from his saddle, but as though the earth rose 
up and smote him. Wherefore he lay for a 
while all stunned with that blow and with the 
astonishment thereof. 

But hearing the shouts of the people upon 
the castle wall, he immediately aroused himself 
from where he lay in the dust ; and he was so 
filled with rage and shame that he was like one 
altogether intoxicated. Wherefore he drew his 
sword and rushed with great fury upon his 
enemy, with intent to hew him down by main 
strength. Then that other knight, seeing him 
come thus at him, immediately dismounted 
from his own horse and drew his sword and 
put himself in posture either for assault or for 
defense. So they lashed together, tracing this 
way and that, and smiting with such fury that 
the blows they gave were most terrible for to 
behold. But when Sir Ewaine beheld how 
fierce was that assault, he set spurs unto his 
horse and pushed him between the knights 
contestant, crying out aloud: "Sir Knights! 
Sir Knights! what is this? Here is no cause 
for such desperate battle." But Sir Gawaine 
cried out very furiously : " Let be ! Let be, 
and stand aside ! For this quarrel concerns thee 
not." And the Sable Knight said, "Ahorse 
or afoot, I am ready to meet that knight at 
any time." 

But Sir Ewaine said : " Not so ; ye shall fight 
no more in this quarrel. For shame, Gawaine ! 
For shame to seek such desperate quarrel with 
a knight that did but meet thee in a friendly 
fashion and in a fair contest." 

Then Sir Gawaine was aware that Sir Ewaine 
was both just and gentle ; wherefore he put up 
his sword in silence, although he was like to 
weep for vexation at the shame of his overthrow. 
And the Sable Knight put up his sword also, 
and so peace was made betwixt those two. 

Then the Sable Knight said : "lam glad that 
this quarrel is ended, for I perceive, messires, 
that ye are assuredly knights of great nobility 
and gentleness of breeding ; wherefore I would 
that we might be friends and companions from 
henceforth instead of enemies. Therefore I do 

beseech ye for fo come with me a little ways 
from here, where I have taken up my inn, so 
that we may rest and refresh ourselves in my 

And Sir Ewaine said : " I give thee gramercy 
for thy courtesy, Sir Knight, and we will go 
with thee with all the pleasure that it is possi- 
ble to feel." And Sir Gawaine said, " I am 
content." So these three knights straightway 
left the field of battle. 

And when they had come to the edge of the 
forest Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine perceived a 
very fine pavilion of green silk set up beneath 
the tree. And about that pavilion were many 
attendants of divers sorts, all clad in colors of 
green and white. And when Sir Gawaine per- 
ceived how great and lordly was the estate of 
the knight who had overthrown him he was 
very greatly comforted. Then the esquires of 
those three knights came and removed the 
helmet, each esquire from his knight, so that 
the knight might be made comfortable thereby. 
And Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine perceived that 
the Sable Knight was very comely of counte- 
nance, being ruddy of face and with hair like 
to copper for redness. Then Sir Ewaine said 
unto the knight : " Sir Unknown Knight, this 
knight, my companion, is Sir Gawaine, King 
Uriens's son of Gore ; and I am Ewaine, the son 
of King Lot of Orkney. Now I do crave of 
thee that thou wilt make thyself known unto us." 

" Ha," said the other, " I am glad that ye 
are such very famous and royal knights, for I 
also am of royal blood, being known as Sir 
Marhaus, the son of the King of Ireland." 

Then Sir Gawaine was very glad to discover 
how exalted was the station of that knight who 
had overthrown him, and he said unto Sir 
Marhaus : " Sir Marhaus, I make my vow that 
thou art one of the most terrible knights in the 
world. For thou hast done unto me this day 
what only one knight in all the world has ever 
done, and that is King Arthur, who is my uncle 
and my lord. Now thou must certainly come 
unto the court of King Arthur, for he will be 
wonderfully glad for to see thee, and mayhap he 
will make thee a knight of his Round Table ; 
and there is no honor in all of the world that 
can be so great as that." 

Thus he spoke unthinkingly; and then he 




remembered. Wherefore he smote his fist 
against his forehead, crying out: "Aha! aha! 
Who am I for to bid thee to come unto the 
court of King Arthur who only yesterday was 
disgraced and banished therefrom ! " 

Thereupon did Sir Gawaine relate how he had 
been banished from the court of King Arthur. 
Then Sir Marhaus said : " Messires, I like ye 
wonderfully well, and would fain become your 
companion in the adventures you are to under- 
take, for now I need remain here no longer. 
For ye must know that I was obliged to defend 
those ladies who assailed my shield until I had 
overthrown seven knights in their behalf. And 
I must tell thee that thou, Sir Gawaine, wert the 
seventh knight I have overthrown. Wherefore, 
since I have now overthrown thee, I am released 
from my obligation and may go with ye." 

Then Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine were very 
much astonished that any knight should lie be- 
neath so strange an obligation as that, and they 
besought Sir Marhaus to tell them why he should 
have been obliged to fulfil such a pledge. And 
Sir Marhaus said: " I will tell ye. The case was 
this : Some whiles ago I was traveling in these 
parts with a hawk upon my wrist, what time I 
was clad very lightly in holiday attire : to wit, 
I wore a tunic of green silk, and hosen one of 
green and one of white. And I had nothing 
upon me by way of defense but a light buckler 
and a short sword. Now, coming unto a cer- 
tain stream of water very deep and rapid, I 
perceived before me a bridge of stone crossing 
that stream, but so narrow that only one horse- 
man might cross that bridge at a time. So I 
entered upon that bridge, and was part way 
across it when I perceived a knight in armor 
coming the other way. And behind the knight 
there sat upon a pillion a very fair lady with 
golden hair. And when that knight perceived 
me upon the bridge, he cried aloud, ' Get back ! 
get back, and suffer me to pass ! ' But this I 
would not do, but said : ' Not so, Sir Knight ; 
for, having advanced so far upon this bridge, I 
have certes the right of way, and it is for you 
to wait your turn and to permit me first to 
cross.' But the knight would not do so, but 
immediately put himself in posture of offense, 
and straightway came against me upon the 
bridge, with intent either to slay me or to 

drive me back to the other extremity of the 

" But this he was not able to do, for I de- 
fended myself very well with my light weapons. 
And I so pushed my horse against his horse 
that I drave him backward from off of the 
bridge and into the water ; whereinto the horse 
and the knight and the lady all of them fell 
with a terrible splashing. 

"At this the lady shrieked in great measure, 
and both she and the knight were like to drown 
in the water — the knight being altogether clad 
in armor, so that he could not uplift himself 
above the flood. Wherefore, beholding their 
extremity, I leaped from off my horse and into 
the water, and with great ado and with much 
danger unto myself, I was able to bring them 
both unto the land. 

" But that lady was very greatly offended 
with me, for her fair raiment was altogether 
wet and despoiled by the water; wherefore she 
upbraided me with great vehemence. Then I 
knelt down before her and besought her par- 
don with all humility, but she still continued 
to upbraid me. Then I offered unto her for to 
perform any penance that she might set upon 

" At this the lady stinted her violent words 
and was very well satisfied. And she said, ' I 
will set thee a penance.' And when her knight 
had recovered she said, ' Come with us'; and so 
I mounted my horse and followed them. 

" So after we had gone a considerable distance 
we came to this place, and here she commanded 
me as follows : 

" ' Sir Knight,' she said, ' this castle belongeth 
unto me and unto this knight, who is my lord. 
Now, thou shalt take thy shield and hang it up 
in yonder sycamore-tree, and every day I will 
send certain damsels of mine own out from the 
castle. And they shall offend against that 
shield, and thou shalt not only suffer whatever 
affront they may offer, but thou shalt defend 
them against all comers until thou hast over- 
come seven knights.' 

" So I have done until this morning, when 
thou earnest hither. Thou art the seventh 
knight against whom I have contended, and as 
I have overcome thee, my penance is now 
ended and once more I am a free man." 




Then Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewaine gave Sir 
Marhaus great joy that his penance was com- 
pleted, and they were very well satisfied each 
one with the other two. So Sir Gawaine and Sir 
Ewaine abided that night in the pavilion of 
Sir Marhaus, and the next morning they arose, 
and having laved themselves in a forest stream, 
they made them ready and rode forth into the 
woodlands with their esquires. 

So they made their way by certain divers 
paths they knew not whitherward, and they 
traveled all that morning and until the afternoon 
was come. And as they traveled thus Sir Mar- 
haus said of a sudden, " Messires, know ye 
where we are come to ? " And they said, " Nay, 
we know not." Then Sir Marhaus said: " This 
part of the forest is called Arroy, and it is fur- 
ther called the ' Forest of Adventure.' For it 
is very well known that when a knight, or a 
party of knights, enter this forest, they there 
assuredly meet with some adventures, from 
which some come forth with credit, whilst 
others fail therein." And Sir Ewaine said, " I 
am glad that we have come hither, so that we 
shall meet with adventure." 

So those three knights and their esquires con- 
tinued onward in that woodland, where was 
silence so deep that even the tread of their 
horses upon the mossy earth was scarcely to be 
heard. And there was no note of bird and no 
sound of voice, and hardly did any light pene- 
trate into the gloom of that woodland. And 
those noble knights said unto one another, 
" This is soothly a very strange place, and one, 
mayhap, of enchantment." 

Now when they had come into the very 
midst of these dark woodlands, they perceived 
of a sudden, in the pathway before them, a 
fawn as white as milk. And round the neck 
of the fawn was a collar of pure gold. And 
the fawn stood and looked at them, and when 
they had come nigh to it it turned and ran up 
a very narrow path. Then Sir Gawaine said, 
" Let us follow that fawn and see where it 
goeth." And the others said, " We are 

So they followed in a narrow path until, of 
a sudden, they came to where was a little open 
lawn, very bright with sunlight. And in the 

midst of the lawn was a fountain of pure water. 
And there was no fawn to be seen, but lo ! be- 
side the fountain there sat a very wonderful 
lady clad all in garments of green. Moreover, 
that lady combed her hair with a golden comb, 
and her hair was like to the wing of a raven for 
blackness. And upon her arms she wore very 
wonderful bracelets of emeralds and of opal 
stones inset into cunningly wrought gold. And 
the face of the lady was like ivory for whiteness, 
and her eyes were bright like jewels set in ivory. 
And when she perceived the knights she arose 
and laid aside her golden comb and bound up 
the locks of her hair with ribbons of scarlet 
silk. Then she came forward to those knights 
and gave them greeting. 

Thereupon those three knights gat them 
down straightway from off their horses, and Sir 
Gawaine said, " Lady, I do perceive that thou 
art not of mortal sort, but that thou art of faerie." 
And the lady said, " Sir Gawaine, thou art 

At this Sir Gawaine marveled that she should 
know his name so well. And he said to her, 
" Lady, who art thou ? " Whereunto she made 
answer: " My name is Nymue, and I am the 
chiefest of those ladies of the lake of whom thou 
mayst have heard. And it was I who gave 
unto King Arthur the sword Excalibur. For I 
am very friendly unto King Arthur and to all 
the noble knights of his court. So it is that I 
know ye all. And I know that thou, Sir Mar- 
haus, will become one of the very foremost 
knights of the Round Table." 

Then she said, " I pray ye tell me what it is 
that ye seek in these parts ? " And they said, 
" We seek adventure." Whereupon she said to 
them, " I will bring you unto adventure, but it 
is Sir Gawaine who must undertake it." And 
Sir Gawaine said, " That is very glad news." 

And she brought them up a very high hill, 
and from the top of the hill they looked down 
upon a fruitful and level plain as upon a table 
spread out before them. And in the midst of 
that plain they beheld that there was a very 
noble castle, built all of red stone and of red 
bricks, and a small town, also built of red bricks. 
And as they sat there on top of the hill they 
perceived of a sudden a knight, clad in red ar- 
mor, who came forth from a glade of trees. And 



8o 5 

they saw that the knight paraded the meadow smitten down all of his enemies but those two, 

that lay in front of the castle, and that he gave and that when he had put those two in great 

challenge to those within the castle. They then peril of their lives, he of a sudden sheathed his 

perceived that the drawbridge of the castle was sword and surrendered himself unto them. And 

let fall of a sudden, and that there issued from they saw that those two knights brought the 

thence six knights, clad in complete armor. Red Knight to the castle, and that when they 

And they saw that these six knights assailed had brought him there a lady upon the walls 

that one knight in red armor, and that the one bespake that Red Knight with great violence of 

knight assailed the six. And they beheld that language. Then they beheld that those two 

for a while those six withstood the one, but that knights bound the Red Knight's hands behind 

he assailed them so terribly that he smote down his back, and bound his feet beneath his horse's 

two of them very quickly. Then they beheld 
that the rest brake and fled from before the Red 
Knight, and that the Red Knight pursued 
them about the meadow with great fury. And 
they saw that he smote down one from out his 
saddle, and still another, until but two of those 
knights were left. 

And Sir Gawaine said, " That is certainly a 
very wonderful sight for to see " ; and the Lady 

belly, and drave him away from that place. 

All this they beheld from the top of that hill ; 
and the Lady of the Lake said unto Sir Gawaine, 
" There thou shalt find thy adventure, Sir 
Gawaine." And Sir Gawaine said, " I will 
go." And the Lady of the Lake said, " Do so." 

And, behold, she vanished from their sight, 
and they were greatly amazed. 

And now follows the adventure that fell be- 

of the Lake said, " Wait a little." 

Then they saw that when the Red Knight had twixt Sir Gawaine and Sir Pellias. 

(To be continued.) 


By Parmalee McFadden. 

ID it ever occur to you that 
the bunch of colored rib- 
bons you wear in your but- 
tonhole — or pinned on your 
dress if you are a girl — at 
commencement, or at a baseball or foot-ball 
game, is really a flag? It tells to what class 
or school or college you belong, or which of 
these, for the time, has your interest and sym- 
pathy. And for somewhat similar reasons do 
nations wear their colors. At first maybe it 
was to tell one another apart ; but after a while 
the colors — the flag — came to represent the 
nation itself; and the way the people acted 
toward the nation's flag was supposed to show 
the way they felt toward the nation. 

When the American army was encamped at 
Cambridge, just outside of Boston, General 
Washington felt the need of a distinctive flag. 
There were thirteen colonies represented in that 
army, and each had its own flag, while some 
had more than one. Among this miscellaneous 
lot of flags was the one, of which you have 
often seen pictures, showing a rattlesnake, and 
bearing the motto : " Don't tread on me." 

But what the country needed was one flag, 
with a design that meant something. So Con- 
gress sent a committee, headed by Benjamin 
Franklin, which consulted with General Wash- 
ington, and recommended a flag to stand for 
all the colonies. After much discussion the one 
adopted was that shown in Fig. 5 (page 807). 




To understand how this flag grew from older 
flags, let us for a moment go back to the early 
flags of England. 

In the early part of the fourteenth century 
the flag of England bore simply the red cross of 
St. George on a white ground (see Fig. i ) ; 
while the flag of Scotland was a white St. An- 
drew's cross on a blue ground (see Fig. 2). In 
1603 England and Scotland were united, and 
three years later the two flags were combined to 
form what was called the " king's colors " (see 
Fig. 3), England and Scotland, however, retain- 
ing their own individual flags. Indeed, it was 
the red cross of St. George that the " May- 
flower" flew at her masthead when she brought 
her precious load of Pilgrims to Plymouth that 
cold winter of 1620, for she was an English 

In 1707 Great Britain adopted for herself and 
her colonies the flag shown in Fig. 4, the main 
part being red, but having in its upper corner 
the "king's colors," or "union" flag, which 
represented the union of England and Scotland ; 
and since that time this part of the flag has been 
called the " union," or "jack," and sometimes 
the "union jack." The term "jack" is sup- 
posed to have come from Jacques, the French 
spelling of James, which form the then King of 
England, James I, used in signing his name. 

This (Fig. 4) was the flag of Great Britain 
down to the year 1801, when Ireland was added 
to form the United Kingdom of Great Britain 
and Ireland. This further extension to the na- 
tion was represented in the union by the addi- 
tion of the cross of St. Patrick, which was a 
diagonal cross, like that of St. Andrew, only 
it was red on a white field. The combination 
of these three crosses of England, Scotland, and 
Ireland has formed the union in the flag of 
Great Britain from the year 1801 down to the 
present day. But this last form of the union 
jack is not shown here, for it has nothing to 
do with our flag, and never was used by any 
of the American colonies. 

From the flag shown in Fig. 4 we come to 
that shown in Fig. 5 — the one that begins to 
show a resemblance to our own familiar flag. 
This was the flag recommended by Dr. Frank- 
lin's Congressional Committee. It was called 
the flag of the " United Colonies of America," 

and had for its union the union jack, made up of 
only the St. George and St. Andrew's crosses 
of the British flag ; but its main field consisted 
of thirteen stripes, alternately red and white. 
There is nothing definite known as to what sug- 
gested the idea of the stripes, unless, as has been 
claimed, the stripes that appeared on the coat 
of arms of the Washington family ; although a 
flag with stripes was used by the troop of light 
horse that escorted Washington from Philadel- 
phia to New York when he took command of 
the army; and stripes were also used on one 
of the flags of the East India Company. 

This flag was first used by the American 
army encamped at Cambridge. The next stage 
in the evolution of our flag was in 1777, when 
by resolution of Congress it was ordered " that 
the flag of the thirteen United States " (not 
colonies now) " be thirteen stripes alternately 
red and white " (just as in the flag then in use), 
but " the union to be thirteen stars, white on a 
blue field, representing a new constellation " 
(see Fig. 6). In this new form we find another 
suggestion of the Washington coat of arms, 
which contained, in addition to two wide red 
bars, three stars ; at least, they were in the form 
of stars, though in heraldry they would probably 
be called " mullets " or " rowels " — fhe sharp- 
pointed wheels used in riding-spurs. 

At the time the stars and stripes were adopted 
Congress was sitting in Independence Hall, in 
Philadelphia. There was living in the city a 
widow named Elizabeth Ross, who, for several 
years, had made government and other flags. 
It was by this woman, in her home in Phila- 
delphia, that the first flag authorized by Con- 
gress was made. It may be interesting to know 
that Mrs. Ross's home — the "Betsy Ross 
House," it is called — is still standing at 239 
Arch Street, Philadelphia. 

About five years ago a number of citizens were 
given a charter under the name of the "Ameri- 
can Flag House and Betsy Ross Memorial Asso- 
ciation." The objects of the association have 
been partially fulfilled by its purchasing the old 
Ross house and converting it into a museum. 

It was in the back room of this house, then, 
that General Washington, Robert Morris, and a 
Colonel Ross discussed with Betsy Ross the 
details of the flag. It was here they decided 




Fig. 1. 

the early flag of england, 
st. George's cross. 

Fig. 2. 

the early flag of scotland, 
st. Andrew's cross. 

Fig. 3. 

ADOPTED 1606. 

Fig. 4. 

the flag of great britain 

and her colonies, 

adopted i707. 

Fig. 5- 

the flag of the united colonies 

of america, 

first used january, 1776. 

Fig. 6. 

first flag of the united states 
of america 
(13 stars and 13 stripes), 

ADOPTED 1777. 




Fig. 8. 




that the thirteen stars should be placed in the 
form of a circle to show that it was for all time 
and had no end. When considering how many 
points the stars should have, it is reported 
that Betsy Ross suggested they be given five 
points, because the cloth could be folded in 
such a way that a complete star could be made 
by one cut of the scissors. This might be a 
good puzzle for the girls and boys to work 

out. Some of our older readers may recall the 
solution given in St. Nicholas for July, 1892. 
It is interesting to note that our flags all have 
five-pointed stars, while those on our coins are 

This (Fig. 6) was the flag that was used at 
the battle of the Brandywine and at German- 
town. It was with our army when Burgoyne 
surrendered ; with Washington at Valley Forge ; 




at the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown ; and 
at the evacuation of New York by the British 
in 1787. 

After Vermont and Kentucky were admitted 
as States, Congress ordered that after May 1, 
1795, the flag have fifteen stripes and fifteen 
stars (see Fig. 7). This was the flag that our 
army and navy carried in the War of 18 12. 

But, scarcely less interesting to patriotic 
Americans is the fact that this particular form 
of the flag was the one used at the attack on 
Fort McHenry, when Francis Scott Key waited 
with others for the return of morning to learn 
whether the fort had fallen ; and when " by 
the dawn's early light" he saw through the mist 
" that our flag was still there," and was stirred 
into writing " The Star-Spangled Banner," 
which has since become our national anthem. 

As will be seen from the illustration, this 
fifteen -stripe flag has not so graceful propor- 
tions as those of the preceding forms, and it 

soon became evident that if a new stripe 
were to be added for each State admitted 
into the Union, in the course of time the flag 
would become unwieldy. So in 1818, when 
there were twenty States, Congress passed a 
law to the effect that after the following July 4 
the number of stripes in the flag should be re- 
duced to the original thirteen, but that the 
union should have twenty stars; and that as 
each new State was admitted another star 
should be added, to take effect the Fourth of 
July next following its admission. 

From that time down to this day the stripes 
have stood for the original thirteen States, and 
the stars for all the States. From the twenty 
stars in 1818 the "union" has been filling up 
until there are now forty-five stars ( see Fig. 8 ), 
and, without doubt, room will very soon have 
to be made for three more when the terri- 
tories of Oklahoma, Arizona, and New Mexico 
shall be admitted as States. 


By Fanny Gwen Ford. 

Modern navies and modern methods have 
given a very different aspect to the sea-fights 
of to-day from those of the olden times, but 
for that very reason the old fleets, and battles 
fought on the sea long years before Christ 
came on earth, are full of interest. 

Of the navy of one of the oldest of old coun- 
tries, China, very little is known. That China 
was once much interested in sea affairs is, how- 
ever, certain. It is said that, long before any other 
peoples, the Chinese knew something of the 
wonders of the lodestone, and even if the mari- 
ner's compass was not invented by them, their 
knowledge of the magnet was certainly suffi- 

cient to aid them in navigating their ships, and 
helped to extend their trading, and probably 
their battles, into strange waters. So the Chi- 
nese were bold voyagers ages ago. On their 
cruisers' bows was painted an eye to denote 
watchfulness ; and red, a sacred color to them, 
was displayed in strips of cloth which decorated 
the various parts of the ship. 

Chinese enterprise on the sea unfortunately 
received a death-blow from one of their own 
weak and self-loving monarchs, who forbade 
his subjects to cruise in waters outside of the 
China Sea, for fear they should learn in their 
travels any ideas which might lead them to 

XXX. — 102-103. 



I July, 

rebel against his tyrannical government. He 
also ordered, vain and unwise man that he was, 
that all vessels should be made in the shape of 
his imperial foot ! Alas, poor ships ! this strange 
shape destroyed all seaworthy qualities, and 
any ambition in the di- 
rection of a Chinese 
navy was for the time 

The first historical 
naval battle of the 
world is said to have 
taken place near Pelu- 
sium, an ancient city of 
Egypt; for the Egyp- 
tians, though they never 
were fond of war, had 
in their prosperous days 
an excellent army and 
navy, which they were 
obliged to keep to pro- 
tect themselves. The 
navy, however, as the 
people of Egypt hated 
the water, was entirely 
controlled and manned 
by sailors from the sea- 
bred Phenicians, of 
whom I will tell you 
later, and in this way, 
no doubt, exciting bat- 
tles were fought on the 
Mediterranean Sea two 
thousand years or so 
before the Christian 

A mode of warfare 
called " ramming " was 
a popular method for 

destroying an enemy, and for this purpose a 
ram's head, probably made of iron, was fastened 
to the prow of the ship. Archers and sling- 
ers were stationed on poop and forecastle of 
the vessel. 

For hand-to-hand conflict, when the enemy 
was " boarded," the men were always provided 
with pikes, spears, javelins, and battle-axes; 
all fighters wore heavy helmets of bronze and 
coats of mail, and they carried wooden shields 
covered with thick, tough bull's hide. 

A very large fleet, for conquest on the Red 
Sea, was built by one of the kings of Egypt 
named Thothmes I. He was already a famous 
conqueror, but a very ambitious daughter called 
Hatasu hoped, by this addition to the navy, to 


carry their dominion still farther. Some time 
afterward, also, large conquests were made by 
the Egyptian navy in the reign of Thothmes III, 
who lived about fifteen hundred years before 
the birth of Christ. This Thothmes III, so 
great was his ambition and success, has been 
called an Egyptian Napoleon, but, notwithstand- 
ing such fame, he is better remembered to-day 
as the creator of those wonderful obelisks called 
Cleopatra's Needles, one of which was placed, 
not many years ago, on the Embankment in 




London, and an other in Central Park, New 
York, while Rome boasts a third. 

Whatever of naval glory, however, belonged 
to Egypt in those bygone times, it does not 
approach in renown that of its little neigh- 
bor on the Asiatic side of the Mediterranean 
Sea — Phenicia by name. Glorious, indeed, 
are the records of Phenician sailors on the 
sea! Born in a little strip of country two 
hundred miles in length, its greatest width 
twelve miles and its average only three, shut 
in by the mountains of Lebanon from the out- 
lying country, these hardy, enterprising people 
were forced to take to the water as a means of 
communicating with the outside world ; and 
good use they made of it. Those mighty cities 
of theirs, Tyre and Sidon, sent large numbers of 
people, by sea, protected by strong fleets, to 
found successful colonies in all directions. Britain 
we know was visited by them, as tin from its 
mines was brought back by their ships, as 
was also amber from the shores of the Baltic 
Sea. Whole fleets of ships with sailors to man 
them were, as I have said, supplied to Egypt 
and other countries by these sea-loving people, 
all skilfully arranged, and with excellent disci- 
pline. It must be confessed that much of the 
Phenician warfare might, in plain language, be 
styled piracy, but it can be said in their favor 
that wherever the fleets of the Phenicians went, 
there followed something of civilization. 

Among some of the earliest fleets mentioned 
in history was one built by the clever Pheni- 
cian ship-builders for Sennacherib, King of 
Assyria, seven hundred years before Christ, or 
over twenty-six hundred years ago. It seems 
that this king had a much-dreaded rival in a 
prince of Chaldea named Suzub. This prince 
lived in the marshes in a very un-get-at-able 
place on some small island of the Persian Gulf, 
from which Sennacherib decided to oust him; 
and though Sennacherib and his people lived 
far inland, he conceived the bold design of 
making an attack on Suzub with a fleet brought 
by him from his own country. For this purpose 
he ordered the Phenicians to construct " tall 
ships after their country," meaning modeled like 
their own vessels, and to man them with sailors 
from Tyre and Sidon. This fleet, when ready, 
sailed some distance down the Tigris, which you 

will now find on the map of Turkey in Asia. 
Then the ships, — just think of it! — were trans- 
ferred overland, probably by means of wooden 
rollers, all the way to the great thoroughfare of 
the country, the big canal of Babylon. There 
the soldiers of Sennacherib were put on board, 
and the fleet sailed down the canal to the 
Euphrates River. After much voyaging, the 
ships, with all the troops, wound their way 
through the marshes which were at the mouth 
of the Euphrates, and came into the Persian 
Gulf. This was, indeed, a wonderful undertak- 
ing to those land-bred people, and much doubt 
was in many minds as they voyaged down. 
Offerings of little golden images of ships and 
fishes were thrown into the water for Ea, the 
god of the sea, whose aid they hoped would 
decide the contest in their favor. Fortunately, 
after many trials and hardships, their efforts were 
in the end successful, and Suzub was obliged to 
fly from his stronghold and leave everything in 
the hands of the conqueror. 

So wonderfully well did those old Phenicians 
build ships and prepare men to manage them 
that the construction of both the Persian and 
the Greek men-of-war was learned from them, 
and their sailors entirely manned the Persian 
ships in the great sea-fights between those two 
countries which took place four hundred years 
before Christ. A very good account, by the 
way, is given of the galleys of those times by 
Professor Parker of the American navy, which, 
though written for older people, cannot fail to 
interest any girl or boy who will think it worth 
while to look it up. 

Going on some two hundred years more, we 
come to the great sea-fights between two very 
powerful opponents, the Roman republic and 
the colony of Carthage (settled on the northern 
coast of Africa, some eight hundred years before, 
by those old mighty mariners, the Phenicians). 
So overbearing had these Carthaginians become, 
through their long supremacy on the water, 
that they had forbidden the Romans even to 
wash their hands in the Mediterranean Sea ! 
One of the secrets of this tyranny, also, was the 
fact that the Romans, though great conquerors 
with their vast army on land, possessed no 
navy, and were, therefore, so far as the sea was 
concerned, at the mercy of the Carthaginian 





fleets. The Roman people, however, awoke at 
last to a sense of their own inferiority in this 
regard, and from one of their enemy's ships, 
stranded on their coast, they got the design for 
their first ship. Dockyards were enlarged, forests 

were felled, and in an astonishingly short time 
the first Roman fleet, consisting of one hundred 

and twenty-four men-of-war, put to sea. In 
addition to this navy, however, as the Romans 
knew the Carthaginians in the customary naval 
tactics would far outdo them, they decided that 
some plan would have to be devised which 
would give the powerful Roman soldiers an 
opportunity to fight almost as if on land. This 
was done by the invention of the famous grap- 
pling-hook and boarding-machine called the 
corvus, by which a ship could be hooked to the 
side of its enemy in a manner that served to 
make one battle-field of both ships. In this 
way only, naval victories became possible at 
that time to the Romans, fighting against a foe 
in all else their superiors but as soldiers. 

After various conquests over the Carthagin- 
ians, however, the Romans lost for some time 
their interest seaward, and their navy became 
small and of little value. Still the struggle was 
not over between these two great rivals, and the 
Romans again found it necessary to reinforce 
their navy to three hundred and thirty men-of- 
war, and the Carthaginians manned a fleet of 




some three hundred and fifty vessels. Then 
one of the greatest naval battles (265 b. c.) was 
fought, and sixty-four Carthaginian ships were 
taken, with their crews, but not a single Roman 

their galleys were sunk, and thirty of the 

So the battles went on till the last Carthagin- 
ian fleet was destroyed, and the Romans were 

vessel was carried off, though twenty-four of left in full control of the Mediterranean Sea. 



By A. L. Sykes. 

" Are you going to buy 
torpedoes for me, Uncle 
Alec ? " asked Robby. 
"Yes," said Uncle Alec. 
" Oh, goody ! And pin- 
wheels, and rockets, and 
fiery serpents, and Roman 
candles ? " asked Robby, 
spinning around his uncle 
as though he were a pin- 
wheel himself. 

" Yes," laughed Uncle 

" And little pistols and 
caps ? " 

" And teenty-tonty fire- 
crackers, and middle-sized 
ones, and great big can- 
non ones ? " asked Robby. 
Uncle Alec opened his lips to say yes again, 
but a sorrowful little voice said: "Oh, Uncle 
Alec, Robby is a perfectly f'rocious boy. I wish 
you would n't buy such dreadful things." 

" Pooh ! " said Robby, and he put his hands 
in the pockets of his knickerbockers and stood 
very straight; for he was seven, and brave, and 
Marjory was only five, and did n't like Fourth 
of July at all. 

" I won't let 'em hurt you. I can keep care 
of you, Marjory," he said. " And you can hold 
my punk." Here he brought out a dilapidated 
piece from the recesses of his trousers pocket, a 
remnant from the last Fourth, which he handed 
to Marjory as a sort of earnest of bigger and 
better things to be expected in Uncle Alec's 

"Yes; but I don't like to hear them," said 
Marjory, and though she was the dearest little 
girl in the whole world, she looked almost ready 
to cry. But when the time for buying the things 
came Marjory was quite ready to go, and when 
her uncle came home with his arms full of 
bundles Marjory said to her mama: 

" Mama, Robby's bundles are full of awful 
things, and mine are full of nice things, and we 
are going to put them on the shelf and not look 
at them until Fourth of July." 

On the day before the Fourth the postman 
brought a letter to Robby. 

" Hurrah ! " he shouted, after he had heard it 
read. " Grandma wants me to stay with her all 
the Fourth of July, and I can make as much 
noise as I want. Mama, may I go ? " 

Mama was glad to say yes, for Robby was 
never tired of shooting, and Marjory never 
seemed to get used to the noise, and cried so 
much that the day was always a hard one for 
their mother. 

When the happy morning came, Robby was 
up before light, packing his treasures for the 
journey; and when Uncle Alec took him to the 
train, all the passengers smiled when they saw 
such a small American with such a large box 
going somewhere to celebrate his independence. 

" It 's very sad without Robby," moaned 
Marjory at lunch-time. 

" Yes," said her mother, " but not nearly so 
sad as it is with him. I have n't heard you cry 
once to-day; and when nap-time is over, you 
know that you are to begin to celebrate." 

How Marjory's eyes danced when she woke 
from her nap and was dressed in her very pret- 
tiest dress ! She went to the next house and 
invited all the little girls to come and see her 
" Fourth of July," and they came. She ran and 
took the packages from the shelf, and Uncle 
Alec came to help her. 

Off came the papers — and what do you think 
she found ? 

Robby had taken her bundles and left his, 
and there on the floor lay strings and strings of 
tiny red fire-crackers, and middle-sized ones, 
and great, great cannon ones. 

Marjory hid her face in her mama's lap and 
cried and cried. 

" I 'm crying some for me," she sobbed, " but 
most for Robby. I just believe he '11 die ! " 




" Well, put on your hat, pussykins, and we '11 
catch the three-o'clock train and make him 
happy again," said Uncle Alec, who, in his long 
black duster, had just come in from a trial drive 


— rer\U, 

of a new horse he was thinking of purchasing ; 
and then Marjory was happy indeed. 

" Oh, you dear, dear Uncle Alec ! " cried 
Marjory, holding out her hands and running up 
to him. " Mama will send word for me to the 
girls explaining everything." 

They were soon walking down the village 
street toward grandma's house. They found 
grandma and grandpa, and John the man, and 
Kate the maid, all searching for a lost Robby. 

" He ran to open his bundles in the kitchen, 
and we have n't seen him since, though we 've 
called and called," said grandma. 

" He is under the bed, I think," said Mar- 
jory. " He goes there so people won't see him 
cry." And upstairs they all ran. Marjory looked, 
and there, far under grandma's bed, lay a sad 
little curled-up bundle that was Robby. 
Nobody laughed when he crawled out, 
red and tear-stained, with his arms full 
of Marjory's packages, and he wiped his 
eyes very hard when no one was looking, 
and was soon as merry as the others. 

" Ladies first," said Uncle Alec, as 
they went out on the lawn ; and Robby 
laughed with the rest at the day fireworks 
as the queer cats and pigs and funny 
mandarins went floating up and away. 
They pulled the crackers, and every one 
had a gay cap to wear, and the very nicest 
of candy came from the boxes that looked 
just like fire-crackers. 

Then came Robby 's turn. How the 
torpedoes and the pistols snapped, and 
the fire-crackers roared, and the great, 
great ones boomed like cannons ! Mar- 
jory sat on Uncle Alec's knee, and never 
cried at all, but laughed and shouted, 
" Was n't that a fine one, Robby ? " And 
nobody but Uncle Alec knew how she 
trembled, and how very brave she was. 

When the dark came, Robby shot off his fire- 
works. Finally there was just one thing left, — 
the biggest, reddest cracker of them all, — and 
Marjory said in a faint little voice, " Let me 
light it." 

" You would n't dare," said Robby. 
" I don't dare, but I 'm going to," said Mar- 
jory, and she grasped Robby's hand, oh, so 
tightly ! and ran, and lighted it, and was back 
in an instant on Uncle Alec's knee. 

"Bravo!" they all cried, and "BOOM!" 
said the big cracker, and Fourth of July was over. 

*s ^ 


By G. M. L. Brown. 

ES. £N6R„ N.Y. 


It was once my amusing experience, while 
teaching in an English school in Buenos Aires, 
to have a class in geography dispute certain of 
my statements regarding the industries and 
wealth of the United States. The figures were 
too startling, and they simply would not accept 
them. One pupil, a clever French lad named 
Pierre, was particularly combative ; and, had I 
not been able to prove his reference-books to 
be hopelessly out of date, I should have come 
out " second best " in the discussion. This 
sketch of Buenos Aires, on the other hand, is 
just as open to criticism from the girls and boys 
of North America should the ordinary school 

geography be taken altogether as the latest 
authority. But — well, excellent as these geog- 
raphies may be, they have never done justice 
to South America, and probably they never 
will until better communication is established 
between the two continents. Then our coun- 
try will find that it has yet much to learn about 
its Southern neighbors, and, I fear, much to 

Buenos Aires, the capital of the Argentine 
Republic, is the largest city in South America. 
It is also the largest city in the Southern Hemi- 
sphere, and the largest city in the Western 
Hemisphere south of Philadelphia. It is, more- 



8l 7 

over, the largest Spanish-speaking city in the 
world. Its population probably exceeds nine 
hundred thousand, and is increasing rapidly. 

This great city lies near the thirty-fifth paral- 
lel of latitude south, so that it is about seventy- 
six degrees, or over five thousand miles, south 
of New York. Not directly south, however, 
but far to the eastward, as will be seen in the 
map on the preceding page. 

Here we have that part of South America 
which lies south of the equator, doubled over, 
as it were, upon the Northern Hemisphere, so 
that each point is in the exact position in north- 
ern latitude and longitude that it really occupies 
in the southern. Notice that, except for a part 
of Patagonia, South America lies east of our 

far from the tropics they are! — opposite North 
Carolina, in fact, with a more temperate climate 
than New Orleans or Jacksonville or even 
Savannah. To be more exact, we find that 
the three Southern capitals, Buenos Aires, 
Montevideo, and Santiago, which are practically 
on a line with one another, are almost on a line 
with three of our smaller cities, viz., Wilming- 
ton, North Carolina, Little Rock, Arkansas, and 
Los Angeles, California. Cape Town, South 
Africa, and Sydney, Australia, strange to say, 
would also lie on this line, could they be shown 
in the map. 

Buenos Aires, therefore, enjoys a warm but 
by no means a tropical climate. The heat of 
summer is tempered by the cool waters of the 


continent, even the coast cities of Chile being 
some distance to the east of Cape Hatteras. 
Thus we can understand why in Buenos Aires 
the time is more than an hour ahead of New 
York time, and why in Rio Janeiro it is more 
than two hours ahead. 

But note also the comparative latitude of 
Buenos Aires and the other cities near it. How 

South Atlantic, and its winter has neither snow 
nor excessive rains. An occasional frost, some- 
times a week or two of wet weather — that 
is all. 

I well remember, during my first winter in 
that latitude, how surprised and delighted my 
pupils were at the sight of hail. When I ar- 
rived at school, the hail had melted to a soft 




mass quite suitable for snowballs, as the boys 
were not slow to find out. Not content with 
playing in the courtyard, however, they had 
carried the fun indoors, and floor and walls 
presented a sorry sight. This, I thought, was 
a bad beginning for the winter, so I hastily 
summoned the whole school and warned them 
not to repeat the performance. The boys 
listened, but not as gravely as I should have 
wished ; so, finally, quite embarrassed, I stopped 
and asked the nearest boy what he was laugh- 
ing at. 

" Please, sir," he said, " we are n't likely to do 
it again ; I never snowballed before, and I guess 

before we stop to make a closer examination of 
the modern city. 

Buenos Aires, meaning "good airs " or " health- 
ful winds," was named by an old Spanish explorer 
and freebooter, Pedro de Mendoza, who founded 
the city in the year 1535. The wind blowing in 
from the pampas was certainly good, but not so 
the flat, swampy piece of ground that he selected 
for a town. Yet the little settlement grew, de- 
spite its surroundings, despite the lack of a har- 
bor, despite a century of Indian wars and over 
two and a half centuries of Spanish misrule. 
It grew and prospered until, in 1776, — an easy 
date for you to remember, — it became the capi- 


I '11 never have another chance ! " And up to 
the present, I believe, the poor boy has not. 

This took place in June, if I remember cor- 
rectly, and the remainder of that winter — which, 
of course, would be summer north of the equa- 
tor — was one of the most delightful seasons I 
ever witnessed. The air was moist but balmy ; 
the sun was warm but not hot ; birds and flowers 
— and, alas, mosquitos — were everywhere to 
be seen. Only an occasional bare tree told 
that it was winter. 

So much for the climate ; now let us glance 
briefly at the early history of Buenos Aires 

tal of the great Spanish viceroyalty of La Plata, 
which comprised what is now Argentina, Bo- 
livia, Paraguay, and Uruguay. Just one hun- 
dred years ago Buenos Aires's population had 
reached fifty thousand, which seems quite re- 
markable when one considers the vexatious 
taxes and restrictions that Spain imposed on 
her colonies. 

In 1 806 occurred the British invasion under 
Major-General (afterward Viscount) William 
Carr Beresford, an event that nearly changed 
the destiny of half a continent. For " the Purple 
Land that England lost," as a writer styles the 




La Plata countries, would probably have been 
British to-day, like Cape Colony, or at least 
English-speaking, had Beresford held the city 
he so easily captured. 

England and Spain were at war at this time, 
Spain being the ally of Napoleon. Beresford, 
who had been stationed at Cape of Good Hope, 
thought he would aid his country by seizing a 
Spanish colony, and 
impulsively set sail 
for the Rio de la Plata 
with about sixteen 
hundred men. Ar- 
rived off Buenos Aires, 
he took the city quite 
by surprise, and cap- 
tured it easily. But 
the people were not 
inclined to submit to 
a mere handful of In- 
gleses (Englishmen), 
and after a few weeks' 
preparation they ad- 
vanced upon the in- 
vaders and soon over- 
whelmed them. The 

fighting occurred in the Plaza Mayor, the prin- 
cipal square of the city, where Beresford was 
intrenched, and this square has ever since been 
known as the Plaza Victoria, while adjacent 

streets, such as Defensa 
(Defense), Reconqnista 
(Reconquest), and a 
few others, were re- 
named in honor of the 

But Great Britain, 
unwilling to lose such 
a prize, sent a much 
larger force, under 
General Whitelocke, 
to recapture the city. 
This expedition, how- 
ever, ended much more 
disastrously. White- 
locke, through his in- 
competency, lost half 
his men and had to 
withdraw to his ships; 
and, to complete his 
disgrace, he surrendered Montevideo, the city 
across the river, — ■ now the capital of Uruguay, 
— which had been gallantly captured by a sep- 
arate force. Thus the La Plata provinces were 
lost to England forever. 

But Spain was soon to lose them also. South 
America had long been ripening for revolt, and 
almost simultaneously the various colonies rose 


against the mother-country. The Argentine 
nation dates from May 25, 1810, when the 
people of Buenos Aires, assembled in the same 
old square, the Plaza Victoria, declared their 




right to self-government, and appointed a 
"junta," or provisional government, to succeed 
the viceroy. The first stone of the " Pyramid 
of Liberty " ( to be seen in the view of the 
Plaza) was laid April i of the following year; 
and on the same day, we may note in passing, 
the new republic abolished slavery. Then suc- 
ceeded years of conflict with Spain in what is 
now Uruguay, Paraguay, and Bolivia, and on 
the sea ; for Buenos Aires, aided by the sparse 

tyrant. For seventeen years, in fact, he ruled 
with a hand of iron, and many of Buenos 
Aires's citizens were cruelly put to death by his 
secret agents. The city experienced a genuine 
reign of terror, hundreds of its best families 
having to flee for safety to Montevideo. Rosas 
was defeated in battle in 1852 and ended his 
days in England. 

But good times were not yet in store. Revo- 
lutions and political intrigues followed each 

,,**«*• — • • • '^it^- 


settlements of the interior, sent assistance when- 
ever she could to the struggling sister colonies. 

The names of Moreno, Belgrano, and particu- 
larly San Martin, will ever be honored by the 
South American republics for the part they took 
in this struggle. 

The later history of Buenos Aires would make 
rather tedious reading, I fear, so I shall mention 
only two or three events. A remarkable period 
was the dictatorship of Rosas, who was elected 
President of the Argentine provinces in 1827, 
but became, after a few years, a most arbitrary 

other in such rapid succession that commerce 
came almost to a standstill. For several years 
the city and province of Buenos Aires was in 
conflict with the other thirteen provinces, but 
in 1862 peace was proclaimed and the present 
Argentine Republic was formed. Shortly after- 
ward a disastrous war with Paraguay was be- 
gun, and then came the greatest misfortune 
that Buenos Aires has ever experienced — the 
yellow-fever epidemic. 

The Great Plague of 187 1, as the Argentines 
call it, began in January of that year and lasted 




about one hundred days. The population of 
the city at that time has been variously esti- 
mated, but authorities agree that more than 
twenty-five thousand people must have perished. 
It was an awful visitation, but it resulted in a 
great reform in the sanitary condition of the 
city, so that no such epidemic is likely to occur 

The administration of President Sarmiento is 
noteworthy on account of the excellent educa- 
tional system that he established. Sarmiento 
studied the schools and colleges of the United 
States, finally adopting the Michigan system as 
best adapted to his country. A number of 
American teachers were then employed to es- 
tablish normal schools in Buenos Aires and the 
cities of the interior, and in these the native 
teachers were prepared for their work. Sar- 
miento is therefore called the father of Ar- 

occurred in 1890, and lasted but a few days. 
Buenos Aires, as usual, bore the brunt of the 
ordeal ; but peace was soon restored, and, 
happily, seems destined long to continue. 

Perhaps the great influx of foreigners accounts 
for this, for Buenos Aires has become one of the 
most cosmopolitan of cities. More numerous 
even than the natives are the Italians, who 
number 350,000 or more — a good-sized city 
in themselves. The Argentines come next in 
number ; then the Spaniards, the French, and 
the Germans. The English-speaking commu- 
nity is large enough to support three small 
dailies and half a dozen weekly newspapers. 
The trade of the city is thus controlled princi- 
pally by outsiders ; but the natives control the 
government and the army, and they see to it 
that the foreigners are well taxed ! 

What attracts such a host of foreigners, you 


gentine education, and his name is justly re- will ask, and what supports this large popula- 
vered by the nation. tion ? An answer is easily given: 

The last revolution in the Argentine Republic First : Buenos Aires stands at the mouth of a 




great river — the La Plata. This is formed by 
the junction of the Parana and the Uruguay, 
which, between them, drain a territory larger 
than the basin of the Mississippi — a territory 
to which, as yet, there is no access but through 

Rosario, which, though growing rapidly, seems 
but like a big town compared with its great 
neighbor. La Plata, the capital of the prov- 
ince of Buenos Aires, enjoyed quite a " boom " 
about ten years ago, and was expected by some 
to rival Buenos Aires; 
but it stands to-day, a 
city of deserted pal- 
aces, with grass grow- 
ing in its streets. 

The first thing that 
strikes you on landing 
at Buenos Aires is its 
docks, which extend 
for five miles along the 
river-front. They were 
built by an English 
firm, and were com- 

the La Plata. Buenos 
Aires is thus the princi- 
pal port of the country. 
Manufactured goods 
for the provinces of the 
interior, and even for 
Paraguay and parts of 
Uruguay and Brazil, 
are here unloaded to 
be forwarded by rail- 
road or by river-steam- 
ers to their destination. 

From Buenos Aires, likewise, is exported the 
products of these regions, particularly the out- 
put of the pampas, those wonderful plains of 
which you have read, which support countless 
flocks and herds, and produce millions of bush- 
els of wheat and corn. 

Second : It is the political, military, commer- 
cial, and social metropolis of Argentina in 
every sense of the word. Indeed, there is only 
one other city of any size in the Republic — 


pleted in 1897. They are most solidly con- 
structed, supplied with numerous modern steam- 
cranes, and are brilliantly lighted with electricity 
at night. They cost the city and nation seven 
million pounds sterling, or thirty-five million 
dollars. So great is the amount of shipping, 
however, that not the docks alone, but the small 
river Riachuelo, is crowded with vessels. In- 
deed, one wonders how a ship, once entered, 
can ever manage to get out. 



In the docks you will see the cattle-steamers 
loading live stock, and refrigerator-steamers 
loading frozen mutton, their cargoes consigned 
to England, or perhaps Belgium or France. 
Other steamers may be seen unloading general 
cargoes from England, Germany, France, or 
the United States ; and ocean liners — perhaps 
just arrived from Genoa, Barcelona, or other 
continental ports — steam in with crowded 
decks. River-steamers of all sizes, and men-of- 
war, including generally several of foreign na- 
tions, and, not least in importance, the old 
training-ship for naval cadets, lie end to end 
along the massive quays. 

In the Riachuelo — or the " Boca," as it is 
known to sailors the world over — are to be 
found huge "tramps" unloading coal from 
Wales; Canadian barks unloading lumber or 
taking on cargoes of wool and hides for Bos- 
ton or New York ; Norwegian vessels loading 
wool or hides or wheat for Europe, or perhaps 
flour for Brazil; and 
Italian vessels taking 
the same cargoes, or dis- 
charging marble, wine, 
or olive oil. American 
and Brazilian sailing- 
vessels will also be no- 
ticed, and perhaps here 
and there a mast flying 
the banner of old Spain. 
Besides these, of course, 
there are innumerable 
lighters, fruit-barges, 
tugs, and smaller craft. 

The most fascinating 
sight in the docks, to an 
American boy, would 
be the arrival of a Para- 
guayan river-boat, with 
its upper deck loaded 
with oranges exposed 
to the sun to ripen, its 
hold filled with mate, 

or Paraguayan tea, and hard-wood from the 
tropical forests ; and, more interesting still, its 
living freight of parrots, monkeys, and a motley 
throng of human beings. 

From Barracas al Sud, which lies beyond 
the Riachuelo, to its beautiful northern suburbs, 

the city of Buenos Aires extends eleven miles, 
its area being twice that of Paris and nearly 
three times that of Berlin. Yet the houses are 
built close together, and one would wonder 
what causes the city to cover so much ground 
if he were not familiar with the Spanish style 
of building. The houses are low, and con- 
tain large patios, or courtyards ; for the people 
insist on having plenty of fresh air and sun- 
shine. Of course buildings of several stories 
are now quite common, especially in the busi- 
ness streets; but the one-story house, with high 
ceilings and several airy patios, is yet the favo- 
rite structure. 

One could hardly imagine a more delightful 
spot than a Spanish patio. The picture on page 
820 shows one of the three patios in the Amer- 
ican Girls' School in Montevideo, but it will 
serve as a type of those in Buenos Aires, and, in 
fact, of the Spanish patio anywhere. The floor 
is principally of marble, which is very cheap in 


many South American cities, and the walls are 
tiled and painted in bright colors. Overhead is 
a mass of vines, loaded, in season, with delicious 
grapes. In the patio in front there is an orange- 
tree, and two of the walls are almost covered 
with roses, wistaria, and Paraguayan jasmine. 



Each room in a Spanish house opens into 
the patio ; and the door, as you will observe, 
also serves as a window. The kitchen is al- 
ways at the back, and is separated from the 
rest of the building for fear that any artificial 
heat might get into the living-rooms. For 
South Americans won't heat their houses even 
on the coldest winter days, from a superstition 
that the heat of a fire is very unhealthful. 

The only drawback to a Spanish house is the 
difficulty in getting from room to room in wet 


on a pleasant day, is as inviting a place as an 
invalid could wish for. 

Another charming characteristic of Spanish 
cities is the plazas, to which reference has al- 
ready been made. In laying out a town the 
rule of the old Spanish dons was to start 
always with a public square. Then, as the 
town grew, others would be laid out, thus pro- 
viding breathing-spaces for the future when the 
town should become a city. Buenos Aires has 
nearly a score of these breathing-places, all of 


weather. Imagine having to put on a water- 
proof and rubbers to go from the library to the 
dining-room ; and think of the poor cook's feel- 
ings as she hurries with a carefully prepared 
dish through torrents of rain ! Some patios, of 
course, are covered with glass ; but the open 
patio, with its fragrant air, and a leafy canopy 
or oftener just the blue sky above, is decidedly 
the more charming. 

In another illustration we see a courtyard on a 
very large scale, the interior of the San Roque 
Hospital, Buenos Aires, the corridor of which, 

which contain trees, flowers, and seats for the 
passer-by. Many, like the squares of our own 
larger cities, contain statues and fountains. 

Buenos Aires is likewise liberally provided 
with parks — Palermo Park reminding one of 
Central Park, New York, except that its trees 
are subtropical. There are beautiful winding 
paths, an artificial lake, a magnificent driveway, 
— Sarmiento Avenue, already referred to, — zo- 
ological gardens, pavilions, and, in fact, every- 
thing that one would expect to find in the 
pleasure-ground of a large city. 




Perhaps the most surprising thing to the 
"gringo," or new arrival, in Buenos Aires, is the 
magnificence of its retail business streets. Many 
are narrow compared with our streets, and the 
architecture is sometimes a strange mixture of 
French, Spanish, and Italian ; but white marble, 
plate-glass, and bright paint are used so lavishly 
that the effect is very pleasing. Calle Florida, 
the principal retail street, is not unlike Broad- 
way, New York, in the attractiveness of its 
shops, and here, on pleasant afternoons, the 
elite of the city pass up and down in their 
splendid carriages. 

Avenida Veinticinco de Mayo, or Twenty- 
fifth of May Avenue, — you will remember that 
this is the date of Argentine independence, — is 
considered to be the finest street in South 
America, and, when all the vacant lots have 
been built upon, will be one of the finest in the 
world. It was projected through the heart of 
the city, hundreds of buildings having been torn 
down to make way for it. It begins in the 
Plaza Victoria, and has yet to be continued sev- 
eral miles to the site of the proposed new gov- 
ernment buildings. It is paved with asphalt, 
lighted with electricity, and has already cost the 
city over ten million dollars in gold. 

Buenos Aires has some notable churches, one 
of the most interesting of which is the old ca- 
thedral, a low but capacious building (to be 
seen in the view of the Plaza Victoria). As to 
its many public buildings, its colleges, railroad 
stations, hospitals, theaters, and clubs, I fear I 
would tire you were I to give particulars. In 
brief, however, these are principally modern, 
and many of them represent a great outlay of 
money. The building material almost univer- 
sally used is brick faced with plaster, which is 
painted and sometimes gaily ornamented. The 
walls are made very thick, so that serious fires 
do not often occur. 

Although thoroughly modern in most re- 
spects, and more progressive than many a Euro- 
pean city, Buenos Aires still shows traces of its 
old-fashioned Spanish customs, and occasionally 
exhibits, I regret to say, its former spirit of law- 
lessness. The horse-car driver tooting a rough 
cow-horn was only recently replaced by the 

motorman; the Spanish burden- carrier, or chan- 
cador, is yet quite common (you will notice 
several standing on the street corner in the view 
of Calle Florida) ; the gaucho, or cow-boy, with 
a "poncho" over his shoulders, may be seen 
riding his bronco, perhaps alongside of an au- 
tomobile; the milkman, his milk-cans strung in 
leather pouches from the sides of his saddle, 
may yet occasionally be met ; and on many a 
back street the cow, with her forlorn little calf 
trotting behind, is driven up to the door and 
milked in the presence of the customer. The 
law is yet notoriously lax regarding the use of 
firearms; and in sanitation, although the health 
authorities have done much, the city is not so 
clean that yellow fever is altogether a thing of 
the past. 

An exceedingly quaint custom — common to 
all the neighboring republics as well — is the 
drinking of mate from a gourd or mate-cup. 
Mate, or Paraguayan tea, has long been the 
favorite beverage in Buenos Aires, but is drunk 
between meals, and so does not interfere with 
the consumption of wine and coffee. It is 
grown in Paraguay and Brazil, and somewhat 
resembles tea in appearance. The native Ar- 
gentine places the mate in the bottom of the 
gourd, pours in boiling water, and instantly be- 
gins to drink the beverage through a long silver 
tube, which is spherical at its lower end and per- 
forated to permit only the liquid to enter the 
tube, which, as you may imagine, gets extremely 
hot. After a few sips the cup is passed to an- 
other, and so on around the group, no matter 
how many there may be. When the cup is 
empty, more water is poured in, and the mate 
continues its rounds. 

There is still much to be told about this great 
city of the South ; but perhaps many of the St. 
Nicholas readers will some day see it for 
themselves. As better steamship lines connect- 
ing our country with the Argentine will likely 
be established soon, and, eventually, a railroad 
constructed to that country and Chile, this is 
not at all improbable. If you ever should think 
of going, learn to pronounce Spanish names 
correctly. Then you will call the city, not 
Bu'nos Airs, but Boo-a'nos Ey'race. 

Vol. XXX.— 104. 


By George William Daley. 

" I 'm bound to be a genius," said little Johnny Just raise your hand and speak right out and 

Green ; say it 's eighty-two ; 

" I 'm going to write a book to be the best one You '11 have my book to back you up, so 
ever seen. ■ what can teacher do ? 

I '11 call it Green's Arithmetic, and in it will 

be rules 
To knock out the old-fogyness so rampant in '• Through fractions, cancelation, and the awful 
our schools. cent, per cent., 

I '11 have the answers as they chance to be 
" Addition I '11 have all fixed up so that when You need n't ruin your poor eyes a-studying 
four and eight at night, 

Are added in together you will find the answer For be your answer what it may it 's bound 

straight. to be all right. 

At blackboard you won't need to stand and 

think with all your might, 
For whatever number you put down it 's sure " Eight nines will make just forty-one, and two 
to come out right. plus four make five. 

Subtracting four from nine leaves three, as 
sure as you 're alive. 
" The same way with the tables ; I '11 have a You '11 work out fractions by the yard, and 
new set made. do them just as quick 

When teacher calls ' Quick, seven times nine,' As lightning, when you 're helped along by 
you need n't be afraid. Green's Arithmetic. 




" But — the other night my mother was cutting " My system says you need not think, and so I 

us a pie, — 
There were Ben and Dick and Dorothy and 

Cousin Fred and I ; 
Said mother, as she poised the knife : ' Tell 

me the answer, son ; 
By your new scheme, how many times will 

five go into one ? ' 

answered, ' Four.' 

And when she quartered that old pie perhaps 
they did n't roar. 

I did n't get the smallest bite ; and that 's the 
reason why 

In ' truly things ' I won't have Green's Arith- 
metic apply." 

u van 



ft:@wQ.^^o,^^n«i^(aiiixo. : ^sso^s:ni 

TV ^NAIL and the RACE 

Rh_yave and Pictures 
by e c.gordon 

Do not revile the patient snail 
Because he crawls so very slowly 
s a race-horse he would fail 
Without doubt, this creature lowly 

But think of this, and answer true : 
Would the race-horse on the track 

Than the snail much better do 
With his stable oil his back? 


By E. T. Corbett. 

Oh, dear!" said the sorrowful Unicorn, 
I wish sometimes I had never been born! 
I was reading a Natural History- 
Last night and there was n't a mention of me. 

Never a word — though the Lion was there, 
Lashing his tail with an angry stare ; 
Never a word — though they pictured his 

And showed his cubs at their bloody fare, 
And left me out ! — Do you call that square ? 

"That is n't the worst," said the Unicorn, 
With a look most sorrowful and forlorn ; 
" Some rude little boys were singing to-day, 
And what do you think I heard them say? 
That the Lion and I had fought for the 

And the Lion had chased me around the 

town ! 
And when I heard that, why, I just sat down. 

" 'T was a cruel thing," said the Unicorn, 
"And I can't help weeping, I 'm so forlorn. 

Now in England, you know, 

If they slander me so, 
It will make the Lord High Chamberlain 



He treasures my picture ; why, bless his heart, 
He gives it a place in every part 
Of the Royal Palace — in hall or on stair, 
Over each mantel and bed and chair, 

Carved or painted, engraved or etched, 

Embroidered or sketched, 

You 'd be sure to see 

A likeness of me 
In dining-rooms, drawing-rooms — every- 


"And now to think," said the Unicorn, 
"That I should be thus of my glory shorn! 
I 've been famous for years 
(Here he shed some more tears), 
And insults like these are hard to be borne. 
I 'm afraid I 'm too meek, 
Or my vengeance I 'd wreak 
On those who have dared thus to put me to 

Why, the Lion and I have guarded the Crown, 
Have carefully kept it from falling down : 
I with my prance, he with his roar, 
Have stood on two legs 
Till we 've worn them to pegs, 
And kept that Crown safe on sea and on shore. 

" But, alas!" said the sorrowful Unicorn, 
" If these bad little boys 
Do not cease their rude noise, 
To a skeleton grim with grief I '11 be worn ! 
And then if that Natural History dunce 
Does n't publish at once 
A fine new book, with a picture of me, 
And a very ample apology — 
If these things are not done," said the Uni- 
" It will make the Lord High Chamberlain 
mourn ! " 


By Louis Weickum. 

Illustrated by Sketches and Photographs made by the Author. 


The school-ship " Saratoga," from Phila- 
delphia, had been anchored off the city of Fun- 
chal, Madeira, for a week when the school-ship 
" St. Mary's," from New York, arrived in the 
same harbor. Both ships had been on a cruise 
during the summer, and had stopped there, their 
last port, for water and provisions, preparatory 
to sailing for home, four thousand miles away 
by the sailing route. These two sailing-vessels 
were built sixty years ago as sloops of war for 
the United States navy, and looked so much 
alike that a seaman would be puzzled to distin- 
guish one from the other. 

As their destinations were approximately the 
same and as the conditions were exactly alike, 
it was soon evident to the crews of both ships 
that there would be a race home, and such a 
one as would call for all the skill and seaman- 
ship that the officers and sailors of each vessel 
had at their command. 

The St. Mary's and the Saratoga are two of 
the three American school-ships on the Atlantic 
coast intended exclusively for nautical schools 

to train boys for the merchant marine. The 
Saratoga is controlled by the State of Pennsyl- 
vania, and the State of Massachusetts controls 
the " Enterprise " ; but the St. Mary's is main- 
tained by the Board of Education of the city of 
New York, and it was on this ship that the 
writer was enrolled as a student. The nautical 
school on the St. Mary's is under the super- 
vision of the United States; that is to say, 
the captain is a detailed officer of the United 
States navy. The school is intended for boys 
who wish to learn navigation and seamanship, 
combined with a high-school course of studies, 
so that they may be fitted to engage as officers 
in the merchant marine service. After a student 
has completed two cruises and passed his exam- 
ination, he receives a certificate of graduation, 
which qualifies him to fill the position of quarter- 
master, or junior officer, on the great trans- 
atlantic steamship lines. 

, It was on the return voyage from one of these 
summer cruises last year that we had our ex- 
citing race back to America. 

8 3 o 



The Saratoga was scheduled to sail a few days 
before the St. Mary's, but there being a dead 
calm on the day set for her departure, she had 
to postpone starting until both wind and tide 
were favorable. 

The twenty-fourth day of September dawned 
bright and clear, and the navigators of both 
ships compared routes and notes ; for the race 
had now been decided upon, and' was the all- 
absorbing topic. Preparations were made to go 
to sea : boats were hoisted and lashed, breakers 
filled, chafing-gear put up, watches detailed; 
and at two-thirty that afternoon the order was 
piped: "All hands up anchor for home." This 
was greeted with three cheers, and forthwith 
commenced the work of hauling in forty-five 
fathoms of chain, though we did it cheerfully, 
knowing it was the last time that year we would 
run around the capstan and "juggle" chain- 
hooks in a foreign port. The Saratoga got 
ready too, and was towed out by a tug about an 
hour before the St. Mary's, but hove to and 
waited for us ; and precisely at thirty-two minutes 
after four we crossed the predetermined start- 
ing-line, going at the rate of nine knots, and 
the four-thousand-mile race back to the United 
States had commenced. 

We sailed along in parallel courses, keeping 
about six miles apart, and toward evening the 
St. Mary's was slightly in the lead. 

The next day we averaged but seven knots. 

On the 26th, the third day out, the Saratoga 
was abeam, averaging from four to six knots. A 
large bark appeared on the horizon ahead of us 
in the morning, and at noon we had overhauled 
her; but she did not intend to let us pass her. 
She set all the sail she could carry, numbering 
twenty-seven altogether, and then kept along 
with us for two days, the three vessels being 
abreast of one another, with the bark between 
the two school-ships. The third day the bark 
fell astern. The school-ships were still abreast, 
though five miles apart. 

For several days after this we had little or no 
wind. Those were hard days for us ; contrary 
to general opinion, the sailor works harder dur- 
ing a calm than when the wind is strong. The 
yards were continually being braced around from 
"sharp up on the port" tack to "sharp up on 
the starboard," and all the way back again, try- 

ing to humor every breath of air to push us 
ahead; and it was especially disheartening after 
working so hard in the hot, oppressive sun to 
see the " 'Toga " leave us astern. 

Finally a four-knot breeze came up, and we 
seemed to be going through the water at an 
incredible speed after having been becalmed 
for four days. We all congregated at the rail 
and the foc's'le to watch the spray fly and make 
guesses as to the whereabouts of the Saratoga, 
which had disappeared on the horizon ahead 
of us. 

The weather was splendid up to this time, 
though very hot. Awnings were spread and 
water sprinkled to keep the decks cool. All 
ambition to work had deserted us, and we 
grudged the hauling and bracing that some- 
times occupied all the time during our " watch 
on deck." The nights had been agreeable, 
making it pleasant to sleep on deck ; but now 
we were in the squally tropical region. Showers 
that seemed to be veritable cloudbursts, accom- 
panied by violent winds, came up suddenly. A 
dark speck would appear on the horizon and 
gradually increase in size ; the officer on deck 
would watch it for a few minutes attentively, 
then pass the order, " Watch, put on your oil- 
skins." The sun would still be beating down 
fiercely. Then, " Lay aft to the braces ! " and 
aft we would go on the run. " Weather, main, 
and lee cross-jack braces ! " The wind might 
come any moment in a direction at right angles 
to the wind of a moment before, and yards are 
braced around to catch it. 

Such a squall would occur on the average of 
four or five times every twenty-four hours for 
over two weeks of the passage over ; but, strange 
to say, they were always in our favor. Some- 
times the squalls would not strike us, but pass 
astern or ahead of us. One time in particular, 
I remember, the sea, up to about fifty fathoms 
distant in three directions, was white with 
foam caused by the rain coming down in tor- 
rents, but not a drop touched our deck. 

We often risked carrying sail to the last point 
of safety during these squalls, when it seemed 
something must surely be carried away. But 
then , these were our only opportunities to gain 
on the Saratoga (long since out of sight) in those 
otherwise calm latitudes. 

8 3 2 



On the eighth day out a sail was reported 
dead ahead by the masthead lookout. In a 
moment all was excitement in the probability of 
its being our rival. In a few hours it was ascer- 
tained to be indeed the Saratoga, which had 
been lost to our view for four days ; but later she 
disappeared again. The next day a small bark 

was sighted, and 
we soon passed 
her at a distance 
of about a mile 
and a half to star- 
board. She sig- 
naled for our lat- 
itude and longi- 
tude, which we 
gave her. 

The following 
five days were 
without incident, 
the wind shifting 
to all points of 
the compass, and 
; continually veer- 

Se&iJ ing from calm to 
squall. Some- 
times we would 
log but 


fifty miles one 
day and perhaps the very next day as much as 
one hundred and sixty. 

On Sunday the 12th of October we were be- 
calmed all day. The sun beat down fiercely, 
causing the tar to ooze from the seams on the 
deck unprotected by awnings, and blistering the 
paint on the ship's side. Every living thing 
seemed to have dozed off, except a school of 
porpoises that were splashing and tumbling 
playfully about off the port bow, while now and 
then a flying-fish glinted like a flaming streak 
as it shot across the water to disappear with a 
splash. Complete silence reigned, except for the 
splashing of the porpoises and the straining of the 
rigging and Mapping of the sails against the masts 
as the ship rose and fell on the gentle swells. 

A fish or two seen coming up to the surface 
seemed to rouse a few of the boys: fishing-lines 
and bait were quickly procured, for here was 
prospect of a little diversion. 

As the baited lines were thrown over, the fish 

came to the surface sleepily, turned on their 
sides, blinked their eyes at us, bit our hooks in 
two, and got away with the bait. By this time 
the rest of the ship's company became interested 
and began fishing. 

The fish now came in hundreds, and dozens 
of lines were over from every available place 
aboard; the channels, the gangways, the jib- 
meetings, the quarter-boats, the cat-heads, and 
even the anchors as they were suspended above 
the water, were occupied by the fishermen. We 
had already been eighteen days out, and might 
be out twenty-five more before getting home ; 
therefore a change of diet from salted and 
canned goods to fresh fish was something to be 
secured if possible. After a half-hour of baiting 
and bending on new hooks, the boys became 
desperate. Only one fish had been caught. It 
was about two feet long, and was of the kind 
known to sailors as " wreck-fish." They have 
a skin an eighth of an inch thick, tough as 
leather, and jaws and teeth as strong as a 
beaver's. One of 
the boys sug- 
gested scooping 
them up with a 
net, and others, 
stunning them 
with belaying-pins ; while 
a third proposed to bend 
them on the lines if some 
one would lower him 
over the side. 

Finally some one ap- 
peared with a " grain," a 
harpoon with four barbs 
arranged in the form of 
a square. It was made 
fast to a piece of gear, 

by means of which it could be hauled back 
after being hurled. The fish were coaxed 
under the harpooner, who was in the channels, 
over the ship's side, when, with a mighty effort 
and splash, the grain whizzed through the air 
and water, and when drawn in, a flopping 
fish was impaled. At last the problem was 
solved. Other spears and harpoons were 
brought, and as fast as our hooks had been 
snapped before, the fish themselves were now 
being hauled aboard, though often the bait was 




caught and the fish got away. In a short time 
the deck had the appearance of a Newfoundland 
fishing-smack — all hands cleaning, scraping, and 
salting fish. What a feast we had that night! 
Fried in hardtack-dust and butter, we had, as it 
seemed to us, a dish fit for kings. 

The tough hides of the fish were cured and 
tanned, and made into belts and knife-sheaths, 


as souvenirs of the most interesting fishing we 
had ever experienced. 

We were now twenty days out and only one 
third of the way home, but hope finally dawned 
with the appearance of the " northeast trades." 
The Saratoga was again sighted off the port 
bow on the 19th of October, eight miles away. 

We were making over seven knots at the 
time, in a strong wind that was to our advantage, 
and we gradually drew up to her. The race 
Vol. XXX.— io-;. 

had now reached an exciting point, and it 
seemed strange that we should always meet 
again after having been lost to each other on 
the trackless ocean for as much as a week. 

As we got nearer we hoisted our colors and 
the Saratoga answered. We soon passed her 
and left her miles astern. If this breeze should 
last we knew we ought to beat her by a good 
margin; but we feared 
more calms, so we 
crowded on and again 
carried sail to the dan- 
ger-point, having hands 
stationed all the time 
at the royal halyards 
and the sheets, even at 
the main-sheets, ready 
to ease them off at a 
moment's notice; for 
the race was nearing 
its finish, and it might 
be lost or won in a day. 
At two bells in the 
afternoon watch, just 
after the port watch 
came on deck and our 
rival was hull down on 
the horizon astern, sig- 
nals were observed on 
the Saratoga, but they 
were unintelligible to 
us. We conjectured all 
sorts of accidents that 
might have befallen her 
— she might have been 
on fire, short of water, or 
have needed a doctor's 
services. The captain, 
after a consultation with 
the officers, gave the or- 
der to shorten sail and wait for her to come up. 
So all hands clued up the royals, topgallant- 
sails, courses, and topsails. Then a terrific squall 
with heavy showers struck us, lasting nearly an 
hour, and when the sun broke through the 
clouds again the Saratoga was discovered just 
astern. All hands were in the rigging watching 
her, and she made a splendid sight as she bore 
down on us, a huge cloud of canvas, everything 
set, with the sun glinting on her sails, and her 





long black hull pitching like a see-saw 
throwing tons of spray from off her bows. 
We signaled R. Q. S. (We do not understand 


your message), but finally read their signal A. R. 
(What is your latitude?). 

The disappointment that this message aroused 
on the St. Mary's after all that hard work, not 
to mention the lead lost, can well be imagined, 
although, of course, we could attach no blame 
to our rival or accuse her of a lack of fair play. 

We did not wait until she was quite abreast of 
us, but set sail again as soon as her signals were 
understood. All that work occupied our " watch 
on deck," and we had lost about twenty-five 

We were soon going through the water again 
with the speed of a race-horse, every sail filled 
and drawing. In the afternoon we carried away 
our main topgallant-sheet. 

During the night the Saratoga had over- 
hauled and passed us, and at daybreak was 
ten miles to leeward and ahead of us; but we 
again overhauled her, and passed so close that 
we could distinguish all her rigging. She was 
now off our starboard beam only a mile away 
after a run of twenty-three hundred miles. 

It was nip and tuck all that day, with a head 
wind that was in Saratoga's favor, she being 
able to point up higher into the wind. She 
finally crossed our bows, and was soon hull 
down ahead of us. 

The wind shifted that day, and in the after- 
noon we wore ship. An hour after the 'Toga 
followed suit. The wind and sea now increased 
in violence until it finally became a howling 
gale. For two days we were hove to, while 

the wind whistled and roared through the rig- 
ging and the timbers groaned. Oil-bags were 
put over the bows to prevent the sea from 
breaking. The calming result of so simple a 
remedy is remarkable. 

The Saratoga was then astern, making des- 
perate efforts to catch us. When the wind 
abated somewhat we set reefed topsails, and 
later shook out the reefs and set topgallantsails, 
making ten knots. 

The next day was as fine a one for sailing 
as one could possibly desire. We carried all 
sail, making two hundred knots in twenty-four 
hours. Saratoga was now ahead of us off the 
port bow, and we were straining everything to 
catch her. W T e were at this time between the 
Bermudas and the United States, only five hun- 
dred miles from home, with the discouraging 
fact before us that the Saratoga was rapidly 
disappearing on the horizon ahead. 

Sunday the 26th we were in the Gulf Stream, 
and sighted the first steamer since leaving port. 


The wind increased again and the barometer 
fell, and soon we were in the midst of a howl- 
ing gale again, only a much worse one than 





the other. A sudden puff struck us at eight 
bells in the mid-watch, wrenching loose the 
main-sheet, causing the mainsail to flap with a 
noise like a peal of thunder, and we expected 
to see it ripped into shreds every minute. We 
had a serious time taking in sail during that 
storm; the rain and sleet were driven so hard 
against our faces and hands that it felt as if we 
were being pricked by countless pins. All 
hands worked like Trojans, and it took over an 
hour to stow the foresail. Finally we hove to 
under storm trysails. 

The storm continued to increase in fury, and 
the waves started to break over us; our old 
stand-bys the oil-bags were again put over the 
sides and life-lines stretched along the spar- 
deck. The sky was overcast for two days, 
and we could not take observations to get our 
bearings, but we believed by this time that we 
were somewhere along the Jersey coast. 

On the 29th the wind, still blowing furiously, 
shifted from sou'west to nor' west, making it 
worse, for it caused the temperature to drop 

We were still hove to when a steamer was 

sighted off the beam. We hoisted our ship's 
number (which is a request to be reported), ob- 
serving which, she changed her course and bore 
down upon us. We then raised the signal 
'• All 's well " and also asked for her latitude. 
She approached within three quarters of a mile, 
when, without even showing her colors or an- 
swering our signals, she veered off again. They 
probably thought we were disabled and in dis- 
tress, and hurried down to us with the vision 
of a big salvage and, finding that we were all 
right, were disappointed and made off with 
scant courtesy. 

All that day the ship looked as though she 
were out on an arctic exploring expedition. 
We muffled up in sweaters, coats, two and even 
three suits of underwear, gloves, and oilskins, 
and pulled our watch-caps down over our ears; 
for, having been in the tropics all summer, the 
sudden cold made us shiver from head to foot. 

On the 30th, the wind and sea having sub- 
sided somewhat, we set sail again, and at night 
were within one hundred miles of both Mon- 
tauk Point and Sandy Hook. We had intended 
to go around the latter point, but the wind 
shifted and we were obliged to tack the ship 
continually. The captain wished to make port 



8 3 6 


as soon as possible, so he decided to go in 
Sandy Hook instead of around Montauk Point 
and through Long Island Sound, the usual 
course taken by the ship in returning to New 

The Saratoga had by this time probably gone 
farther westward long since, for her destination 
was Philadelphia, and we lost sight of her be- 
fore the storm. 

Our anchor-chain was roused out and shac- 
kled to the anchor, and " dipsy " soundings 
were made regularly every few hours ; and on 
Saturday, November i, about eight o'clock at 
night we sighted Fire Island Light for a moment ; 
then a fog descended and the lights were blot- 
ted out. At daylight next morning we could 
not see land, but about nine o'clock we sighted 
Navesink Highlands. We had to tack ship 
again, and finally stood in for the Hook, when 
the wind died out and we were becalmed. A 
tug then came out and towed us in. 

As soon as the hawser was passed the order 
was given to " furl sail," and we started in to 
work as we had never worked before. We un- 
bent and stowed all sail, sent down royal and 
topgallant yards, and housed the maintopmast 
in order to pass under the Brooklyn Bridge. 

We moored at our dock at Twenty-fourth 
Street the next morning. — November 3, 1902, 

— after having been just forty days out since 
leaving Madeira. 

Everybody was of the opinion that the Sara- 
toga had reached her port long before we 
reached ours, but we learned by telegraph that 
she got in the same morning that we did. 

By reason of the Saratoga's port being Phila- 
delphia and ours New York, a definite " finish " 
was not determined upon. Indeed, the " race " 
itself was in no sense official, but to us boys it 
was very real and very earnest. While, at the 
time of our steering northward for Sandy Hook 
and the Saratoga westward for the Delaware 
Breakwater, our loyalty to the old St. Mary's 
made it seem as if we were in the lead, it must 
be confessed that there was little to choose 
between the two ships. As far as I can learn, 
there has never been a race where two vessels 
have independently sailed along a prearranged 
course, and, after having been forty days out 
and sailed nearly four thousand miles, finished 
at practically the same distance from the start 
and but a mile apart. All honor, then, to the 
good St. Mary's, and to her plucky rival the 
Saratoga, both boy-" manned" ships; and may 
we meet her again on our cruise this summer, 
and have another chance to match the sails 
and seamanship of the boys of New York with 
the boys of Pennsylvania. 


The picture on the opposite page illustrates 
a touching incident that is said to have occurred 
in the French army during the early part of the 
last century. 

The story runs essentially as follows : A 
French officer of high rank was conducting a 
review of his troops, when an old, white-haired 
peasant was brought to him by one of his offi- 
cers, who said that the old man had been 
trying to get from the soldiers information of 
his son, who had run away from home years 
before to join the army. The name he gave 
being similar to that of the commanding gen- 

eral, it was thought the latter might be in- 
terested. One look at that venerable face, 
and the general recognized his father. Dis- 
mounting from his horse, he embraced the old 
man, and, turning to his officers and troops, he 
called out : " Mes enfants, mon pere " (" Chil- 
dren, my father"), whereupon the whole com- 
mand promptly honored the peasant with an 
enthusiastic military salute. 

What girl or boy can tell who the officer 
was ? In answering, give also your authority, 
with the volume, and page of the book, and 
the name of the author. 




By George H. Valentine. 

When our vessel arrived at the quay, 
And my friends once again I could suay, 

I remarked to my beau, 
" I 'm so happy, you kneau, 
I can hardly believe that it 's muay." 

'T is said of the jackdaw of Rheims 
(Absurd as the narrative sheims), 

So perplexed was his soul 

For the jewels he stoul, 
That he used to cry out in his dhreims. 

I 've lost in the waters of Thames 
A couple of beautiful ghames, 

And my cause for despair 

Was my own want of cair, 
Which a man of sense always condhames. 

I 've hunted the dictionary through, 
But I can't find a rhyme that will dough 

Wherever I search, 

I am left in the learch, 
And I 'm feeling exceedingly blough. 


By Mary A. Lathbury 

Here is my little lady ; 

Her name is Baby White. 
Her face is like an apple-flower, 

Her eyes are soft and bright. 
Her hands are rosy snow-flakes - 

Her head of flaxen fluff 
Is nodding in the garden like 

A dandelion puff". 

She stands among the lilies 

That line the garden wall — 
(What can the child be doing ?) 

How fair she is and tall I 
The lilies bend to kiss her ; 

They — (bless me! do you 
see ? 
She 's broken off my rarest, 

And is bringing it to me !) 


By Carolyn Wells. 

Where the Stars and the Stripes so gallantly stream, 

Hear the great Bird of Freedom exultantly scream. 

And although the American Eagle soars high, 

He 's at home to his friends on the Fourth of July. 

The people who call he 's delighted to see, 

And he gives them fire-crackers and gunpowder tea. 



Edited by Edward F.Bigeiow. 


We all love brooks— especially in summer. 
It is true, as we noted in Nature and Science 
for January, that there is wonderful beauty in 
the frost, snow, and ice formations in the brooks 

In such pools and tiny falls are 
many interesting forms of life. At 
the right is shown a near view of 
the bag-like net of the caddis be- 
tween three large pebbles. 

in winter ; but,after 
all, they are at their 

best in summer. And they are among the 

best, too, of all nature interests. So says one 

of our correspondents, Professor 

L. H. Bailey. In his recent book, 

"The Nature-Study Idea," he thus 

expresses his opinion : 

"To my mind, the best of all 

subjects for nature-study is a brook. 

It affords studies of many kinds. 

It is near and dear to every child. 

It is an epitome of the nature in 

which we live. In miniature, it 

illustrates the forces which have 

shaped much of the earth's surface. 

It reflects the sky. It is kissed 

by the sun. It is rippled by 

the wind. The minnows 

play in the pools. The 

soft weeds 

grow in 

the shal- 
lows. The 

grass and 

the dan- 
delions lie 


Caddis hrvse in their homes made of tiny par- 
ticles of sand or pieces of wood. The illustration 
shows an adult leaving the water and crawling up 
an aquatic plant. 




on its sunny banks. The moss and the fern are 

sheltered in the nooks. It comes from one 

knows not whence ; it flows to one knows not 

whither. It awakens the 

desire to explore. It 

is fraught with 

mysteries. It / 


typifies the flood of life. It 'goes on forever.' " 
And it is my opinion that all the young folks 
will agree with him in this praise of the brook. 
In the first place, we especially love the 
brooks in summer be- 
cause they and their 
banks are so cool and 
inviting. What a plea- 
sure it is to turn aside 
from a long walk in the 
hot, dusty road and take 

some path down into S4»*' 

the ravine where the 
brook gurgles— it al- 
most laughs — and ed- 
dies so playfully around 
the boulders, sharp 
curves, and the roots 
of trees growing on the 
edge of the bank. 

Then, what a won- 
derful collection of in- 
teresting things the 
brook contains! One 
of the queerest is that 
little bulging net of the 
caddis-fly among the 
pebbles. The caddis is 

truly an insect 
fisherman, and its 
net catches a 
large variety of 
microscopic ani- 
mals. Every one 
likes to watch 
them. Later our 
caddis leaves the 
brook, and we 
know it as a four- 
winged moth-like 
insect crawling 
up some grass or 
sedge, or flying 
over the water. 

Then, the slen- 
der and seal-like 
swimmers, the 
newts, come in 
for a share of 

attention. What slender, graceful tails, and 
what beautiful spots on certain species! 

Like real fairies seem the water-striders as 
they glide over the glassy surface of some still 
nook or bay or dart over the ripples. We 




Vol. XXX.— 106-107. 




never tire of watching them and their peculiar 
shadows on the sand and pebbles. 

By the way, important in the interests of the 
brook is this gravelly bottom. Tho- 
reau was interested and puzzled by 
this. He writes in " Spring " : 

" What is the theory of these sudden 
pitches of deep, shelving places in the 
sandy bottom of the brook ? It is very 
interesting to walk along such a brook 
as this in the midst of the meadow, 
which you can better do now before 
the frost is quite out of the sod, and 
gaze into the deep holes in its irregular 
bottom and the dark gulfs under the 
banks. Where it rushes over the edge 
of a steep slope in the bottom, the 
shadow of the disturbed surface is like 
sand hurried forward in the water. The 
bottom, being of shifting sand, is ex- 
ceedingly irregular and interesting." 

But what can equal the joy at the 
discovery of a brook trout? To see one 
clearly as it glides across the pool makes 
the day one never to be forgotten. 


This is the Age of Subtraction. We have 
the horse-fcss carriage and the \vire-/ess teleg- 
raphy, while this article tells of the camera-Z?^ 
photograph. It is easily made, and consists 
simply in using a leaf in place of a negative. 
The young folks who are familiar with print- 
ing and developing pictures will at once un- 
derstand the following directions ; and others 
can readily learn. 

The articles required are two, and are inex- 
pensive. First, a printing-frame — 4 x 5 is a 
convenient size — provided with a glass, and 
costing about twenty cents. Second, a can of 
blue-print paper containing twenty-four sheets, 
and costing twenty cents. Very sensitive paper 
is preferable. Take any common tree-leaf when 
it is fresh and green, place face down on a sheet 
of the paper, put in the frame against the glass, 
and print by sunlight from an hour to half a 
day, according to the density of the leaf and 
strength of the light. Then wash thoroughly 
in clear water, changing several times, dry, and 

press — a heavy book does very well for a press. 
If properly done the result will be a perfect 
picture of the leaf used, showing exact shape 


and size, all the veins, and the minute structure 
to an astonishing degree. Probably at first there 
will be a few failures, but experience will soon 
teach the time necessary for exposure. 

Only an outline is obtained with an under- 
exposed print, or with some very thick leaves. 
Prolonged washing with frequent changes of 
water, however, will often redeem those that 
are over-exposed. Leaves with unusually 
prominent midribs prevent the adjacent parts 
from coming in contact with the paper, and 
so appear blurred in the central region. The 
leaves of common trees, such as elm, maple, 
ash, willow, etc., print easily, and, in fact, those 
of any tree, shrub, or other plant that is not 
too thick or juicy can be used. The 4x5 
frame is large enough for the ordinary species, 
and of those which generally grow larger small 
specimens can often be found. With small 
leaves two or three can be printed on one 
sheet, but it makes a neater collection to have 
each kind by itself. An instructive effect is 
obtained by grouping several forms of one spe- 
cies. Oak-leaves are wonderfully variable. 

On the back of the prints may be written 




the name of the species, date, and locality, or 
they may be pasted in a book and notes made 
below. Students of botany will find such a 
collection almost as instructive as herbarium 
specimens, and much more easily handled and 
preserved. Other kinds of photographic paper 
may be used, but blue prints are cheaper, more 
easily handled, and very satisfactory. Camping- 
out parties have excellent opportunities for this 
work. The accompanying cut is from a print 
of a wild-grape leaf made by the writer while 
camping in the Pine Ridge region of Nebraska. 
Royal S. Kellogg. 


If you pull up a clump of clover, and shake 
off the soil, you will see that there are many 
little white bunches on the roots. Each is not 
much larger than the head of a pin. Perhaps 
you will call them " little potatoes " ; the scien- 
tists call them root-tubercles. Each of these 
tubercles is a laboratory within which thou- 
sands of microscopic bacteria are at work. 
These tiny bacteria take from the air, in the 
soil around the roots, one of the gases called 
nitrogen, and change this into food for the 
plant. It is not known just how they do this, 
but it is plain that the clover thus furnishes a 

home for the bacteria. The scientists have 
proved that the bacteria make food for the 
clover. The clover, in this manner, gets more 
food from the air than from the soil. The 
farmer can harvest a good crop of clover rich 
in nitrogen, and leave the ground, by the de- 
caying clover roots, richer than it was before. 
Of course, if he plows in the entire clover 
plants the ground will be much richer than if 
he leaves only the roots to decay. He can 
plant corn or sow wheat on the field, and it 
will get the benefit of the food of decaying 
roots or stems gathered from the air by the 
little clover chemists. 

A few other plants have similar root-tuber- 
cles containing bacteria with the power of 
gathering food from the air. Among such 
plants the best known to our young folks are 
peas and beans. 

You can easily see the tubercles without 
the aid of even a simple microscope. Per- 
haps your science teacher, or some other 
grown-up friend with the use of high-power 
lenses in a compound microscope, will show 
you the tiny bacteria in the tubercles. 

The bacteria are really plants. Thus the 
microscopic plants and the big plants are mu- 
tually helpful. Botanists call them messmates. 


8 4 4 





boulders up and down the beach, but they 
bump them against the shore rocks like so 
many hammers that finally wear away the 
lower parts of the cliffs. When the rocks of the 
cliffs are Jiarder in some places than they are 
in others they have a tendency to wear away 
irregularly, and this is why the caves and 
arches are formed. The waves beat and 
wash away the softer or more yielding parts 
first. In the case shown in the photograph the 
openings are where the rocks were softer, while 
the legs of the arch are more resisting. Of course 

Camp on Henderson's Inlet, 
Dear Nature and Science: I send you to-day 

a picture of Arch Island that may interest the readers 

of Nature and Science. This island is off the western 

coast of Washington, near the mouth of Raft River. 

It is about one thousand feet long, and the top, which 

is covered with bushes and trees, is nearly one hundred 

feet above the water. The sides are almost vertical. 

Underneath the waves have worn a circular court with 

three arches opening out to the sea. This court, or the upper part of the arch may be quite soft too, 

but that is left because 
the waves did not get 
at this upper part. 

Perhaps some read- 
ers will be curious to 
know why the arch 
does not tumble in ; 
for it was not built up, 
like a brick arch, with 
a view to its standing 
alone. Well, it is large- 
ly for the same reason 
that there is a face in 
the profile to the left : 
it just happened so. 

Such examples of 
wave work are not 
uncommon along the 
Pacific coast ; there 
are some especially 
fine and famous ones 
at the town of Santa 
Cruz in California. 
J. C. Branner. 


chamber, can only be entered at low tide. In it I found 
many barnacles and the seaweeds of which I had read 
in St. Nicholas, the sea-anemones being especially 
beautiful. At the upper left-hand corner of the pic- 
ture there is a " face" that looks a little like a lion's. 
Sincerely your friend, 

Myron Chester Nutting (age 12). 

The photograph of Arch Island shows a 
good example of undercutting of shore rocks 
by the waves of the sea. The waves that 
strike the shore have great power — much more 
than one usually attributes to such soft material 
as water. Heavy waves not only roll the loose 

caves washed out from solid rock. 

Mount Pleasant, Iowa. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I formed a society here for 
the purpose of studying nature, and we find the Nature 
and Science- department a great help to us, and we en- 
joy the nature-studies very much. 

I was in Santa Cruz, California, last winter. It is 
on the northern shore of Monterey Bay, where the cliffs 
come to the water's edge. The waves come in from the 
southwest, but all the caverns are worn in from the 
other direction. I wish you would explain it to me why 
they are not parallel to the course of the waves. 
Yours respectfully, 

Robert W*. Allen. 




The position of the caves in the shore 
at Santa Cruz is determined by the rock- 
structure rather than by the direction 
of the wind. The waves wash out the 
less-resistant rock-material between the 
harder masses, leaving the caves so re- 
markable at that point of the California 

Sea caves are formed by the water 
wearing away the rock. These caves are 
never of very great size. Our largest in- 
land caves are in limestone, which is dis- 
solved by the water and the acids con- 
tained in it. 

a solar halo like a rainbow. 

Cohasset, Mass. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I saw to-day just at 
noon a strange sight in the sky. It was a band 
of colors like the rainbow. The sun was shin- 
ing and it was not raining. It was just south- 
west of the zenith. Every now and then it grew 
quickly bright again. We watched it about half 
an hour. We don't know when it began. I 
would like to know what it was. 

Your little friend, 

Julia C. Bryant. 

The band of colors you observed was 
a solar halo. These halos are in the 
brilliancy and beauty of coloring equal 


Reproduction of a sketch of a brilliant solar halo observed at Fort Egbert, Alaska, trans- 
mitted by Mr. C. C. Georgeson, special agent in charge of the Experiment Station of the 
United States Department of Agriculture at Sitka, Alaska. Cut loaned by the Weather 
Bureau, Department of Agriculture. 


Drawn by our artist from sketches supplied by the writer 
of the accompanying letter. 

to or even surpassing a rainbow, and are of 
a great variety of forms and curves. 

The illustration at the top of this 
column was drawn by our artist from 
sketches sent by the writer of the 
accompanying letter. 

The cut at the left was supplied 

by the Weather Bureau Department of 

Agriculture at Washington. 

"5*^ This illustration shows one of 

"& -J-. the many interesting forms of 

||S these halos. The acting chief 

Bills of that bureau writes : " There 

can be no more interesting 

study for your young people 

than these halo phenomena." 





an unusual way of 
getting honey. 

Northampton, Mass. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I 
have noticed that a bee does 
not take honey from the nasturtium 
as she does from other flowers. From 
most flowers the bee gets the honey by "\ 
going into the center and sucking the honey 
out ; but to get the honey from a nastur- 
tium she goes directly to the back part, 
where there is a little tube sticking out 

Nearly every girl and boy has sucked 
honey from these tubes and knows 
what I mean. The bee sticks her 
proboscis into the little tube, 
thus making a tiny hole, 
through which she draws 

the honey. I discovered this last summer, and any girl 
or boy this season can be on the lookout for this to see 
how the flower is robbed. Your loving reader, 

Dorothea Cable. 

As most of our young folks already know, 
the nectar, as well as the color of the flower, is 

to attract bees or 
other insects. The 
forms of different 
kinds of flowers 
vary greatly, but 
are always such that 
a bee visiting in the 
usual manner rubs 
against the stamens 
and carries some of 
the pollen that is 
brushed off to the 
stigma of another 
flower that the bee 
visits. The flowers 
need this transfer of 
pollen to produce 
seeds. The bee needs 
the honey for food. 


The bee does necessary work ; the flower sup- 
plies food. It is a fair exchange. 

Undoubtedly our young friend made a cor- 
rect and original observation, but it was of an 
exceptional case. You can find by careful 
watching that bees sometimes do this, but they 
usually visit the flower in the regular way ■ — ■ 
that is, by going inside the tube. But bees are 
queer creatures, and some of them have learned 
to rob flowers without doing any work in re- 
turn. Just why they prefer to do this when 
the " work " is no effort to them is difficult to 
Linderstand. It seems to us that cutting 
through the tube is not 
so easy as crawling 
down the inside of it. 

The bee observed 
by our young friend 
seems to us to have 
dishonest principles, 
but perhaps in bee- 
land they have merely 
adopted our old-fash- 
ioned saying, " Lazy 
folks take the most pains." Observe carefully the 
various insects gathering honey or pollen. Are 
there different methods? What about honey- 
bees and bumblebees on wistaria blossoms? 

Note. — According to the Rev. Alexander S. Wilson, bumblebees 
make holes with jagged edges ; wasps make clean-cut, circular open- 
ings ; and the carpenter-bees cut slits, through which they steal 
nectar from deep flowers. Who has tested this statement about the 
guilty little pilferers on our side of the Atlantic?— Neltje Blanch- 
AN, "Nature's Garden." 

the corydalis. 

Philadelphia, Pa. 
Dear St. Nicholas : Please give me some informa- 
tion about this creature which I inclose. 

I found it in the bank of a stream in West Overbrook. 
When I first got it, it was a yellowish white. It 
afterward came out of this case as a locust does. 
I afterward found another a few rods farther down- 
stream. Your friend, 

Ernest W. Cheney. 

The specimen you send 
is a pupa-case, the cast shell- 
like coating left after the 
full-grown corydalis had 

The larva— that is, the 
stage before the pupa — is 
well known to all boys who 
are fond of fishing, as it is 




8 47 

frequently used for bait. It is most commonly 
called hellgrammite, and is also familiar to fish- 
ermen as dobson or crawler. It has a variety 
of common names. Professor Bailey states 
that in Rhode Island alone he found all these 
names applied to it : dobson, crawler, amly, 
conniption-bug, clipper, water-grampus, gog- 
gle-goy, bogart, crock, hell-devil, flipflap, alli- 
gator, Ho Jack, snake-doctor, dragon, and 

Professor Howard adds : " It will be very 
easy to infer from these names alone that the 
insect is a very extraordinary one and some- 
what terrifying in its 
appearance." By the 
way, you will find an 
excellent description 
of it in his " Insect 

It is very difficult to 

keep these insects in 

an aquarium, because 

they are used 

to running 


4 WW. 



Pupa crawling up out of the water. One larva (" dobson," etc.) crawling 
on the sand and stones, and another swimming above it. 


Stanfordville, N. Y. 

Dear St. Nicholas : We will write to the St. 
Nicholas because we want to know what this is that 
we are sending to 
you. We are send- 
ing the insect in a 
small box. We 

found it crawling in 
the road, and the 
first thing wethought 
was to send it to 
you ; we hope you 
will be able to tell 
us its name. 

Your interested 


Amy and Arnold 

Post (ages 13 and 


This is the 
adult corydalis, 
referred to by 
Professor How- 


ard as " one of „.„,., . , 

temale. the male has long, round, 
the mOSt Striking tusk-like extensions in place of the sharp, 
branched "jaws " (mandibles). 

and most curious 

of insects which occur in North America." He 

tells us, regarding laying and hatching the eggs : 

The female lays her eggs 
in white, chalky-looking 
masses about the size of a 
nickel five-cent piece. These 
masses are somewhat con- 
vex, and contain about three 
thousand very small eggs 
set on end. They are de- 
posited on the leaves of 
trees overhanging the water, 
or on rocks, or the piers of 
bridges, or similar places 
where the larvee can readily 
drop into the stream or 
pond. Sometimes they are 
so abundant as to make the 
rocks look as though some 
one had splashed whitewash 
upon them profusely with 
a brush. 

The young, on hatching, 
drop immediately into the 
water, descend to the bot- 
tom, and during the entire 
larval life, which lasts two 
years and eleven months, 
feed upon other aquatic in- 




( Winner of Former Prizes. ) 
Upon the distant western skies 
The purple clouds of sunset rise, 
Like jasper walls of Paradise 

All edged with gold and pink. 
Across the lake a heron flies ; 
Far off and faint a sea-gull cries — 
Dimly its ringing echo dies ; 

The reeds sway by the brink. 

Reflected on the water bright, 
I see the sunset's golden light. 
The heron pauses in its flight, 

The radiant tints to view ; 
And dimly now the colors die, 
Dark shadows creep across the sky ; 
The moon is shining from on high 

Upon the waters blue. 

July begins a happy season for 
League members. School is over and 
vacation is all ahead, with no thought 
of books or lessons or examinations. 
Some of us will go to the sea-shore, 

some to the mountains, and some to the country. Even those of us 
who stay at home will make short excursions to shady nooks and pleas- 
ant brooks and summer's shining sands. Perhaps we shall even forget 
the League for a time in the enjoyment of these happy things, but the 
League and our studies will not quite forget us. For, without knowing 
it, we shall learn from nature's pleasant pages, and without intending to 
do so, perhaps, shall gather material for the poems and the stories and 
the pictures for another year to come. A happy vacation to one and all. 



8 49 


In making awards, contributors' ages are consid- 

Verse. Cash prize, George W. Cronyn (age 14), 
840 E. 141st St., New York City. 

Gold badge, Shirley Willis (age 14), 3723 Delmar 
Ave., St. Louis, Mo. 

Silver badges, Gertrude T. Nichols (age 12), Co- 
hasset, Mass., Katherine Kurz (age 16), 22 Robin- 
wood Ave., Lakewood, Ohio, and Margaret Mary 
Cronin (age 9), 134 Harrison St., Toronto, Canada. 

Illustrated Story. Gold badge, Alfred Patmore 
Clarke (age 16), 1742 F St., N. W., Washington, D. C. 

Prose. Gold badges, Edna Wise (age 15), 239 
West 70th St., Chicago, 111., and Ivy Varian Walshe 
(age 14), Maison Allamand, 26 Rue de la Gare, Mon- 
treux, Switzerland. 

Silver badges, Susan M. Molleson (age 13), 
478 7th St., Brooklyn, N. Y., Alleine Langford 
(age 14), 7 E. 3d St., Jamestown, N. Y., and 
Bennie Hasselman (age 9), 527 Central Ave., 
Jersey City Heights, N. J. 

Drawing. Cash prize, Melton R. Owen (age 
15), 170 Penn St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Gold badge, Jessie J. Whitcomb (age 16), 
6024 Hayes Ave., Los Angeles, Cal. 

Silver badges, Ethel E. Smith (age 13), 226 
Lexington Ave., New York City, and Joseph 
B. Mazzano (age 16), 24 Minor St., New Ha- 
ven, Conn. 

Photography. Cash prize, Amy Peabody 
(age 12), 120 Commonwealth Ave., Boston, 

Gold badges, Holden C. Harlow (age 14), 
P. O. Box 65, Ayer, Mass., and Enza Alton 
Zeller (age 14), 118 Oglethorpe Ave., W., Sa- 
vannah, Ga. 

Silver badges, Catherine Delano (age 13), 
1844 Wellington Ave., Chicago, 111., and John 
Griffen Pennypacker (age 12), 146 Gay St., 
Phcenixville, Pa. 

Wild-animal and Bird Photography. First 
prize, J. Foster Hickman (age 15), West Ches- 
ter, Chester Co., Pa. Second prize, George T. 
Bagoe (age 16), 423 Fourth Ave., New York 
City. Third prize, Charles M. Foulke, Jr. 
(age 13), 2013 Massachusetts Ave., Washing- 
ton, D. C. 

Puzzle-making. Gold badges, James Brew- 
ster (age 16), Warehouse Point, Conn., and 
Christine Graham (age 14), 5145 Lindell Ave., 
St. Louis, Mo. 

Silver badges, Alice Lorraine Andrews (age 
14), 243534 Telegraph Ave., Berkeley, Cal., 
and Rebecca Chilcott (age 13), 2 West Broadway, 
Bangor, Me. 

Puzzle-answers. Gold badges, William R. M. 
Very (age 12), 28 Monadnock Road, Newton Center, 
Mass., and Betty Brainerd (age 14), n 14 Fifth Ave., 
Seattle, Wash. 

Silver badges, Constance H. Irving (age 11), 1919 
Fifth Ave., S., Minneapolis, Minn., Esther M. Walker 
(age 16), 40 West Fifth St., Mt. Vernon, N. Y., and Er- 
nest H. Watson (age 13), 109 Second St., Warren, Pa. 



{Gold Badge.) 

A golden tint spreads o'er the sky, 
The rosy clouds are floating by, 
The sun is sinking in the west, 
The weary world prepares to rest. 

The crickets chirp upon the hill, 
And yonder flies a whip-poor-will. 
The bats are darting all about, 
And one by one the stars peep out. 

The evening dew begins to fall, 
The screech-owl to his mate doth call, 
Their tiny lamps the glow-worms light, 
And silently descends the night. 




Every St. Nicholas reader is entitled to 
League membership and badge, free. 



{Gold Badge.) 

Polly was a little girl and Polly was also very timid. 
The Fourth of July held no joys for Polly on account of 
fire-crackers. She was very much afraid of them. 

But this morning Polly could hardly keep still, she 
was so excited. For had n't papa telegraphed that he 
was coming all the way from Chicago to spend the 
Fourth with them? Polly watched the railroad tracks 
long before it was time for the train to go by, and when 
it did come, and she saw papa waving at her from the car- 
window, she nearly went wild with glee ; she could hardly 
wait until he had time to come home from the station. 

Just as they were getting ready to go to breakfast, 

S 5 o 



papa took a great red, wicked- 
looking fire-cracker from his 
valise and showed it to Polly. 

" We '11 set it off after 
breakfast/' he said. He 
winked at mama as he said 
it, but Polly did not see him. 
She was too busy looking at 
the cracker, and the long, 
ugly fuse at the end. All 
during breakfast she thought 
about it, and while the fam- 
ily were pushing back- their 
chairs she slipped quietly 

" Why, where 's Polly?"' 
asked papa, almost a half- 
hour afterward. 

" I don't know," an- 
swered mama; "I thought 
she was here." 

Then they began to hunt, 
and for a long time could 
not find her. But mama 
finally found her sitting at 
the very top of the stairs 
leading to the garret. She had her eyes shut tight and 
her chubby fingers as far into her ears as she could get 

How mama did laugh when she saw her! Then she 
took Polly downstairs, and papa picked up the big cracker 
that had frightened her so, took hold of the fuse, and 
pulled. And that big, ugly fire-cracker was nothing but 
a candy-box filled to the brim with candy for Polly! 

" Oh, dear," murmured Polly, with a happy face, " I 
wish all fire-crackers were full of candy." 

Illustrated Poem. 


{Cask Prize. ,) 

Across the crimson sunset sky, 

Now darting fast, now wheeling slow, 

The snow-white sea-gulls circling fly, 
At sunset when the tide is low. 


The flocks of wild geese honking rise, 
Where wave the rushes to and fro, 

And break the stillness with their cries, 
At sunset when the tide is low. 

Across the marsh a dying gleam, 
The rushes catch the western glow, 

Then twilight reigns o'er all, supreme, 
At sunset when the tide is low. 

The lazy seaweed rides the tide, 

And lapping waters softly flow, 
Striving their shallow depths to hide, 

At sunset when the tide is low. 

Across the wastes, so black and bare, 

Softly the evening breezes blow 
A breath of swamp and salt sea air, 

At sunset when the tide is low. 

Fast fades the dying western light, 

The purple shadows longer grow. 
Murmurs the sleepy earth, " Good night!" 

The sun has set, the tide is low! 


(Gold Badge.) 

It was all very well, thought Polly, to spend the 
summer in a quaint little Italian village in the hills 
around Naples. To be sure, they had plenty of amuse- 
ments. But the Fourth of July was approaching, and 
for the first time it found her far away from America. 
How could she celebrate it? Polly's pretty face wore 
an anxious frown, which her mother soon noticed, and 
said, when everything had been explained to her: 
" Don't worry; I have got a plan for celebrating the 
Fourth, and I do not think you will be disappointed." 

At six o'clock Polly was awakened by her mother, 
and at seven the carriage was waiting for them. She did 
not know where they were going. When she learned 
that it was to Pompeii, her delight knew no bounds. 

How splendid that drive proved, across the lovely 
green country, through several picturesque villages! 






(AGE 16). 

(Silver Badge.) 
The red sun is dying 

Low down in the west, 
The birdlings are flying 

To seek the home nest. 

And my bonny birdling, 
Safe 'neath mother's wing, 

Awaits the dream fairies 
Who sweet slumbers 

The curly-haired lambkins 
Who frolic near by 

Creep close to their mothers 
When night draweth nigh. 

And my darling lambkin, 
That late played around, 

Has drifted to dreamland 
In sleep, sweet and sound. 

At length Mount Vesuvius, with Naples showing 
white and peaceful in the distance, came in sight ; and 
soon after they reached Pompeii. 

But what words can describe the beauty and grandeur 
of the old Grseca-Roman city that for two thousand 
years lay buried beneath the ashes? 

Now it was once again uncovered, for the sun to shine 
on and the breezes to sigh softly round it, in memory of 
the dead. 

For hours Polly roamed about, admiring the bright 
flowers that had sprung up again in the old gardens, 
running down the narrow streets that the wheels of the 
old Roman chariots had worn into deep ruts, looking 
with awe at the stately temples, and passing sadly 
down the Street of Tombs. 

How interesting she found the great wine-jars, stand- 
ing half full of rain-water, and the large ovens and corn- 
mills, still in good condition and seeming sorry that 
they will never again be used! 

But the time passed all too quickly ; the sun was 
setting behind Vesuvius, coloring the sky a bright gold 
and touching the clouds over Capri and Ischia with a 
rosy light. 

Polly turned to her mother with a sigh of content and 
murmured : 

" It has been a most lovely Fourth." 



(Silver Badge.) 

Hush now, my baby, the sun has set, 

But in the west you can see light yet ; 

The Sleep-man is coming, so close your eyes, 

And you '11 give the Sleep-man a nice surprise ; 

When the Sleep-man comes, he '11 only peep, 

And he won't come in, for you '11 be asleep. 

"Where does the sun go when it has set? " 
To the other side of the world, my pet, 
And the children in China play and play, 
For here it is night while there it is day. 
But hush now, dear, for the stars are peeping ; 
The Sleep-man comes— will he find you sleeping? 

So rest, my dear baby, 
While I pray that He 
Who takes care of children 
Will watch over thee. 



A ROSY light appears in the far east, 

The sun peeps from behind the mountain's brow, 
The flowers lift up their nodding, drowsy heads, 

Man wakens from his peaceful slumber now. 

The birds begin to sing their morning song, 
The tiny wavelets murmur on the bay, 

The sunbeams dance and sparkle merrily, 

And nature wakes to bid the world " Good day!" 

'early spring. 

AGE 12 








/■\AFaVW?E S-PO&Ot. 



Illustrated Story. 

(Gold Badge.) 

"The Fourth, and no money for fireworks!" said 
Polly Packer, as she tossed the July St. Nicholas on 
the lounge beside her. 

She had used all her own savings, together with what 
her father and mother would have given her for fireworks, 
on the party which had celebrated her birthday, the ist 
of July. 

The mere thought of a Fourth without . fireworks 
nearly made Polly cry. 

Unconsciously she picked up the magazine, which had 
accidentally opened in falling, and glancing down the 
page, shut it, only to hurriedly reopen it ; for she had seen, 
" Five dollars will be awarded instead of another gold 
badge," which appeared on the last page of the St. 
Nicholas League, referring to prize contributions. 

The month before she had gotten a gold badge for a 
prize story, so the possibilities for the future brightened. 

But "Awards will be announced and prize contri- 
butions published in the St. Nicholas for Octo- 
ber," next met her eye. 

" Even if I did get a 
prize," thought Polly, "how 
could I buy fireworks to- 
morrow with five dollars in 
October? " 

Looking idly down the 
names of contributions she 
came to prose. 

" Prose — prose—" said 
Polly, half aloud. "What 
a cute little story ' Rover's ' 
protecting ' Tabby ' from 
Mrs. Ralyer's ' Gyp,' and 
Tabby's scratching the old 
hen when she pecked at 
Rover, would make! 

"I '11 do it." 

Entirely forgetting that 
there were such things as 
Fourth of July fire-crack- 
ers or untimely lack of 
money, she resolutely set 
to work, and, after two 
hours' hard work, handed 
the copy to her fond father 
for criticism. He read it 
and re-read it. 

" Polly," said he, finally, 
" leave this with me." "a bit of nature 

She was soon lost in St. 
NICHOLAS in a cozy cor- 

" Fine form, excellent 
plot, good description," 
said Mr. Packer that even- 
ing, after reading it aloud 
to Polly's mother. 

" Polly," said he, after 
she had told him what it 
was for (also her financial 
affairs), "I '11 stake two 
dollars that your story takes 
the five dollars. If it does, 
you pay me back. If not, 
we 're square. Is it a 
Was it? Anyway, Polly awakened the neighborhood 
next morning. (And kept it awake all day, too.) 



(Silver Badge.) 

The sun is sinking in the west, 

The birds are flying home ; 
Robin betakes him to his nest, 
The owl begins to roam. 

The sun is rising in the east, 

The birds wake, every one ; 
And wakens every man and beast, 

All rising with the sun. 

Illustrated Story. 

(Silver Badge. ) 
Once upon a time a little boy's grandmother had a 
parrot that could n't say anything except " Polly wants 
a cracker." 

When the boys came home from school they would 




try to teach him a few other words, but he was so 

stupid that he could n't learn to say anything else. 

The boys were always talking to him, but he would 
always shout as loud as he could the same thing over 
again, " Polly wants a cracker!" and so he could n't 
hear what the boys said. 

One time it was the Fourth of July, and Polly began 
again shouting, " Polly wants a cracker," as usual. 

Then the boys said, " We '11 give you a cracker this 
time," so they lit a fire-cracker and gave it to him. 

Polly did n't know that it was loaded, and so when 
it went off Polly got so scared he did n't know what 
was happening. The boys were careful that Polly 
did n't get hurt, but he was so angry that he would 
have flown away if he had n't been shut up in his cage. 
"That is not the kind of a cracker I wanted," he 
thought to himself. " I 
wanted one that I could 
eat." After this he always 
said, " Polly wants a 
cracker," every day in the 
year except Fourth of 

1 hen he would crawl 
in the corner of his cage 
and hide and say nothing 
at all. 


(Si her Badge.') 

Polly Wentworth was an American girl who was 
traveling in Europe, and when the Fourth of July 
came she found herself in Paris. 

Polly had determined to show herself a true American 
on the Fourth ; so that morning she appeared in 
white with a red, white, and blue sash, and ribbons of 
the same color in her 

In the afternoon Mr. 
Wentworth took Polly 
with him to see some 
French people who 
were friends of his, and 
who had three children. 
As Polly spoke French, 
they soon became ac- 

At last Celeste, the 
oldest, noticed Polly's 
decorations and asked 
what they were for. 

Polly exclaimed : 
" Why, don't you know 
that our Declaration 
of Independence was 
signed on the Fourth 
of July?" 

" No, we don't. 
What was it? " inquired 
the children. 

Polly was quite hor- 
rified at their ignorance, 
though, as she said to herself, ' ' It was written over a hun- 
dred years ago — yes, one hundred and twenty-seven." 

" It was written in our Revolution," said she, aloud, 
" and declared our independence of England. So now 
we Americans celebrate its anniversary every year." 

Marie, the youngest, now piped: "Why do you 
celebrate to-day? You should do it on the 14th." 



Polly looked puzzled, so Rene said, laughing: " Oh, 
she 's thinking of our Fete Nationale on the 14th of 
July. It is kept in remembrance of the capture of the 

" What was the Bastille? " questioned Polly, in turn. 
' ' Has it anything to do with the column papa showed 
me on the boulevard? " 

" That is where it stood," answered Rene. " It was 
first used as the Castle of Paris, and afterward as a 
prison. On July 14, 1789, it was captured by the 
revolutionists, who destroyed it." 

"That happened in your Revolution, then," said 
Polly ; " but I never 
knew the anniversaries 
were so close together. " 
" Yes," said Mr. Sal- 
ignac (who had just 
come in), " and another 
curious thing is that La- 
fayette, who was famous 
in your Revolution, also 
took a prominent part 
in ours." 

" Are n't the colors 
of the flags the same, 
too? " asked Polly. 

" Yes, and speaking 
of them reminds me of 
this." " This " was a 
little gold enameled pin. 
The enamel was red, 
white, and blue. 

Mr. Salignac said : 
" As these are our na- 
tional colors, Miss Pol- 
ly, I hope you will keep 
this in remembrance of 
your Fourth in Paris." 


Every St. Nicholas reader should be a League 
member, every League member should belong to a 
chapter, and every chapter should take part in the 
big competition. 







by w. leigh sowers (age l6). 
Children : 

"Oh, papa, won't you tell us, 

You are so wondrous wise, 

What is it makes the sun set, 

And then what makes it 

rise ? " 


' ' Once when the sun was little 

And of mischief found a 


He ' fixed ' the parlor rocker 

With a life-sized carpet 


' ' Old Mother Earth came call- 
In grassy garments, fair, 
And just as chance would 
have it 
She chose that very 
chair! ! ! 

" She loudly called for justice, 
And Fate this law replies, 
' The sun will always have to set, 
Then always have to rise.' " 



The sun is now a golden ball 

Preparing for its bed, 
While all around it colored clouds 

Wrap it from foot to head. 

There 's golden, purple, blue, and red, 
And other colors bright, 

While all the skies around the sun 
Are darkening with the night. 

At last the sun begins to set 

And when it 's gone from sight, 

Where it was now its golden rays 
Give out a little light. 



{Silver Badge.) 

Polly was a little girl, a dear, sweet little rosebud, 
with wavy golden hair and big blue eyes. 

She lived in a little town in the south of England 
with " Daddy," and " Momsie," and her kitten " Bet- 

One morning, after she had finished her bowl of 
bread and milk, she left Betty and ran to Momsie, who 
was baking. 

" Momsie," she whispered, " was 'Merica very bad? 
'Cause to-day is Fourth July, and if it was n't I want to 

Momsie smiled. " No, dear ; America was n't bad." 
Polly laughed and left the kitchen. She took Betty 
and sat down on the front door-step ; she sat here a 
second, then, jumping up, she ran to her little room. 
There she found a piece of paper and a pencil, and 
wrote in a little cramped hand : 

" Dere King i love you lots but i want too selbrate 
forth if u dont care Polly." 

She folded it and put a stamp on ; then a thought 
came to her. Why not take 
it herself? She put on her 
new sunbonnet and, with the 
note clasped tightly in her 
hand, started. 

" London is most awfullv 
far," she thought as she 
trudged along. 

Before she had gone far she 
grew so tired! The note was 
wrinkled, and no London was 
in sight. She stopped and 
looked about, and then sank 
down beside the road. 

"I 'm tired," she mur- 
mured, her head nodding. 

Suddenly she heard horses 
and sprang up. 

" The King !" thought her 
baby mind. 

The horsemen approached, 

bv dorothy and as the first came by she 

Williams, age ii. ^g^ up t ^ e note _ He stopped 

and took it, smiling as he read. 





"Yes, celebrate," he answered, and lifted her up be- 
fore him. " But who are you, baby? " 

" Polly Gray, of Milbury, sir," Polly answered, her 
little head drooping. 

Before she reached home she was asleep, and the 
man left her in Momsie's arms, with a gold piece from 
" the King." When she awoke the men were gone, 
and as Momsie did not tell her differently, she still 
thinks it was the King who brought her home. 


(A Trite Story. ) 


One 29th of June found Polly Stewart and her parents 
in the city of Montreal. Late that evening they took a 
steamer en route for England, sailing early the next 
morning, reaching Quebec that afternoon and making a 
stop of several hours there. For the two succeeding 
days they steamed down the ever-widening St. Lawrence, 
the beautiful Laurentian Mountains on the north shore. 
Sailing into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, they were soon out 
of sight of land, leaving behind them the warm weather. 

In summer the steamers of this line go north of New- 
foundland, thus cutting off 
several hundred miles, while 
south of Newfoundland is 
the winter route. By this 
time it was thought that the 
ice would have cleared from 
the northern passage, and 
so this was the first trip by 
that route. 

On the evening of July 3d 
they were close to the bleak 
shores of Labrador, and 
soon passed into the Strait 
of Belle Isle. 

When Polly awoke the 
next morning the engines 
were still and silence 
reigned. She hastened on 
deck, and there saw a never- 
to-be-forgotten sight. The 
steamer was inclosed by ice 
stretching as far as the eye 
could reach, tumbled, irreg- 
ular, of a pale green color! 

In place of the booming of cannons and the noise of 
fire-crackers of the usual Fourth, Polly heard the occa- 
sional booming and cracking of the ice. 

For the greater part of that day the steamer was mo- 



7 i\ 

99 ' r \ Bif ! \J! 


lu J * 





tionless, save when the ice parted a little around the 
boat, showing the black water, and she moved forward 
a little, only to be stopped in a few rods. Of course 
the weather was bitterly cold. 

Had there been any wind 
the great cakes of ice would 
have crushed in the sides of 
the steamer. Luckily it was 

The next day they were 
clear of the floe-ice, but 
there were always from five 
to fifteen icebergs in sight. 
As the ship could avoid 
these by daylight, there 
was little danger. 

In the morning it was 
learned that the steamer 
had grazed a large iceberg 
in the night, but had gotten 
safely away. Had any ice 
fallen from the huge mass 
it would have crushed the 

The rest of the voyage 
was uneventful, and the 
Stewarts arrived in due 
time at Liverpool. 
But that Fourth in the ice Polly will never forget. 






( Winner of Former Prizes.) 
The morning's golden curtains draw 

About the mountain's rugged crest, 
The wooded heights in splendor lie 
Darkly against the morning sky ; 
I hear the mother eagle cry 

Above her mountain nest. 

The golden sun is peeping 
Above the mountain high ; 

It shines upon the glistening lake, 

It lightens up each forest brake; 

The skylarks in the fields awake 
And rise into the sky. 



Any League member who has broken or lost the 
League badge may obtain a new one on application. 
This does not apply to prize badges. 

8 5 6 





When the sun doth rise at morning, 

Behind the purple hills, 
I think of children playing 

And of their laughing trills. 

But when it sets at evening, 

Behind the crimson bars, 
I think of gleaming moonlight 

And of the evening stars. 



Polly was a middle-aged par- 
rot whose early days had been 
spent in the green forests of Yuca- 
tan in Central America. I had 
long tried to teach Polly to speak, 
and had taught her to say a few 
short sentences. About eight 
weeks before the Fourth of July I 
tried to teach Polly to say " Hur- 
rah for George Washington." 
But she would not repeat ft after me. 
Then I thought it might be too long to 
say it all at once — that she probably could 
not remember it all, so I tried to teach 
her to say it word for word. But no ; 
she would n't say a word of it. 

Yet she listened attentively when I re- 
peated it. Then I got disgusted and gave 
it up till a week or so before the Fourth ; 
then I tried to make her say it, but she 
would not listen to me now. So when 
the morning of the Fourth came I went 
out to Polly. She said " Hello." I an- 
swered "Hello, Poll; can't you say 
'Hurrah for George Washington' for 
me ? " Then she became furious and 
flew to the other side of her cage and 
would not look at me, so I finished feed- 
ing her. I went into my room and got 
my fire-crackers, went outside, and was 
shooting my fireworks away when mo- 
ther called to come in for luncheon. 
After luncheon I had to stay in the 

AGE 14. 



yard, so I went and got Polly and hung her up on the 
veranda, put up the hammock, and was reading St. 
Nicholas, when along the street comes the street 
band playing " Star-Spangled Banner." 

Then all of a sudden Polly becomes restless and cries 
as loud as she can, " Hurrah for George Washington! " 
This is the story of Polly's Fourth. 



When the morning sun conies creeping, 

Rising o'er the distant hills, 
And its beams come glinting, glancing, 

In beyond my window-sills, 

Then outside the door my mother 
Stops and stands, and thus she 
cries : 
' Good morning, child, the sun has 
risen ; 
Let the daughter, too, arise." 



Polly's family was very poor 
and they lived in a narrow, dirty street, where 
only a few sunbeams straggled in ; but Polly 
was very happy because she had found a bunch 
of fire-crackers last summer, and had carefully 
kept them for the Fourth of July. 

It was the morning of the Fourth and a 
beautiful day. Just after breakfast Polly called 
her little sisters out on the door-step to see her 
set off the fire-crackers. Then she remem- 
bered she had no matches. She went into the 
house, leaving the precious fire-crackers in the 
hands of a younger sister. 

She had got the matches and was coming 
out of the house when she saw a little dog run 
up to her sister and snatch the fire-crackers 
out of her hand. He ran around a corner, 
and in a flash she was after him. He went on 
and on in many streets, and at last Polly lost 
him in the crowd. She wandered on, trying 
to find her house, until at last she wandered to 
the wharves, where she saw a cunning little 
red launch with six merry children and a pretty 


1903. J 

lady getting into it. She drew 
near to watch, and the lady, noti- 
cing her, asked what the matter 
was. She replied that she was lost. 
So the lady asked Polly if she 
would n't like to go on a picnic 
with them. Polly said she would 
like to very much, but they would 
wonder at home where she was. 

So the lady sent a messenger 
to Polly's house to tell where she 

So Polly went with them, and 
set off fire-crackers, and played 
with the children, and had a beau- 
tiful time. 

When she went home she 
brought her sisters some fire- 
crackers and told them about the 
fine time she had. 



American Colony, 
Jerusalem, Palestine. 

Dear St. Nicholas: Some time ago some 
merchants from Gaza went to Egypt, where the 
cholera was raging. They stayed there and 
sold their goods, and had laden their camels 
with merchandise to bring back to Gaza when 
the quarantine stopped them. They, however, 
bribed the soldiers and got through. A little 
while after they reached Gaza, one and then 
another died, and cholera was soon raging a 
through the town. People died by the thou- 
sands, and were lying about the streets, with 
nobody to bury them. The result was that it 
began to spread to Jaffa and the villages along 
the Jaffa road to Jerusalem. Up north to Nab- 
lus, Tiberias, etc., down to Jericho, and in a 
short while we in Jerusalem were inclosed by 
cholera on all sides. 

We know a Mohammedan woman whose uncle lived in Gaza. 
One night he dreamed that fourteen of his household died. Soon the 
cholera broke out, and one after another died, until he had buried 
thirteen. He had no more relations in the world, and felt sure that 
he would be the fourteenth. He was too frightened to go home, and so 
he slept in an inn. After a while he thought that he would go home 
and attend to his goods. When he reached there he found his prop- 
erty all tied together ready to be carried off, and in the next room he 
found the thief, dead, having been struck down by the cholera. See- 
ing this he exclaimed, " Blessed be the Lord ! Fourteen have died in 
my house, and I am saved." He lives to this day. 

You may imagine that it was not very comfortable for us, with 
starvation staring us in the face. Hardly anything grows in Jerusa- 
lem, but it is all carried in on camels, donkeys, etc. Now when the 
quarantine stopped them there was nothing in the city to eat. A 
council was held, and it was arranged so that wheat could come in 
and be cheap, so the poor people could have bread. Now the chol- 
era is all gone, and long strings of camels can be seen coming in, 
bearing wheat and other means of support. We hope that the 
cholera will never come again. 

Bennie Naseef (age 14). 

Washington, D. C. 

Dear St. Nicholas : Reading an article about cats not liking 
music in one of the previous St. Nicholases, I thought I would 
tell about a cat my mother had when she was a girl. She has told 
me the story a great many times. 

My mother would often sit down with her cat in her arms and sing 
to it, when pussy would gently put her paw over mother's mouth to 
stop her. 

_ One day mother's brother had the cat in his lap, and was whistling. 
The cat soon jumped down and ran out of the door. My uncle 
brought her back, shut the door, and began whistling again. The 
cat ran around the room, trying to get out. She then jumped in my 
uncle's lap and scratched him on the nose. 

She showed every sign of great anger, for her fur was Huffed up and 
her eyes on fire. " Captain Jinks " made her more angry than any 
other tune. Yours truly, Elizabeth Day (age 12.) 

Dear St. Nicholas : Although it is a long time since I received 
my badge, I am writing to thank you for it now. Of course, when I 

Vol. XXX.— 108. 


got it every one teased me about it dread- 
fully, and I was immediately christened 
the " silver badger. " 

My brother has suggested several 
times since then that I ought soon to 
turn a richer color. My hopes do not 
soar so high. 

You really cannot imagine how eagerly 
we watch for you each month. As soon 
as the other magazines come the excite- 
ment begins. You are ahvays the last. 
In March the whole family, except mo- 
ther and dad, paraded down to meet the 
postman. When we got back, I began 
at the front, working slowly up to the 
League, to show the others how calm 
and indifferent I was. This, however, I 
will not do again. It is too trying on the 

I hope that you agree with me that 
thanks are better late than never, es- 
pecially when they are sincere. 

Your interested reader, admirer, and 

Marjorie V. Betts. 

Interesting and appreciative letters 
have been received from Nellie C. Dodd, 
Freda M. Harrison, Eleanor Green, Lilian 
Spurgeon, Helen H. B. Merrill, Helene 
Burdett Fairchild, Charlie D. Manson, 
Isabel, Dandson Prickett, Lucy Bouker, 
Frances Jeffery, Cornelia N. Walker, 
Catherine D. Shepherd, Helen Mac- 
kay, Donald McNeale, MaryE. Kirk, 
G. Virginia Robinson, Mabel Agnew, 
Henrietta Agnew, Marjorie Anderson, 
May H. Ryan, Agnes D. Campbell, 
Mary Randall Bacon, Mar- 
ion E. Senn, Beatrice Kelly, 
Louise Marshall Haynes, 
Corinne Bowers, Phyllis Mc- 
Vickar, Marjory Anne Har- 
rison, Grace L. Hollaman, 
A. Brooks Lister, Charlotte 
Waugh, Eleanor Hissey, 
Clarence Macy, Ruth H. 
Brierley, Mary Underbill, 
Jessica North, Eleanor May 
Barker, Fanny C. Storer, May 
Frances Keeline, Katherine Fanning. Marion Lane, Harold W. Lid- 
stone, Mark Curtis Kinney, Katharine Van Dyck, Elsie Lyde Eaton, 
Francis Carter Stevens, Mildred Wyman, Alice R. Knowles^ Edgar 
B. Edmunds, Hildegarde Schurmeier, Mary Alice Shaw, Elizabeth 
B. Ballard, Aimee Vervalen, Nellie Finn, Elizabeth Otis, Flossie 
Wade, Esther Cullen, Elizabeth Q. Bolles, Helen Rosenbaum, Bes- 
sie E. Morgan, Harvey M. Osgood, Harford W. H. Powel, Jr., 
Donald Messera, Harold Osborne, Lillian Connelly, Genie Burke, 
Floyd D. Godfrey, Jeffreys Martin Lyon. 










Sally Williams Palmer 
A list of those whose work would have been published had space permitted. Richard M. Hunt 
A list of those whose work entitles them to honorable mention and en- Emilie C. Flagg 



Edwina Lydia Pope 
Beulah H. Ridgway 
Freda Muriel Harrison 
Margaret E. Manson 
Medora Addison 
Alan D. Campbell, Jr. 
Ada H. Case 

Thomas Porter Miller 
Mary Clara Tucker 
Catharine D. Brown 
Eleanor Myers 
Harvey Deschere 
Margaret Clemens 
Lillian Alexander 
Louise Ring 
Ellen Dorothy Bach 

Ruth E. Crombie 
Ann Drew 
Harold R. Norris 
Hilda C. Wilkie 
Mabel C. Stark 
Alice Hartich 
Pauline K. Angell 
Caroline C. Everett 
Marjorie Mclver 
Marjorie Martin 
Isabel Merrill 
Philip C. Gifford 
Edith J. Minaker 
Rachel Bulley 
Fay Marie Hartley 
Margaret M. Sherwood 
Edwin Caleb Burt 
Teresa Cohen 
Elizabeth Q. Bolles 
Philip B. Eaton 
Edith M. Clark 
Elsie Lyde Eaton 
T. Morris Longstreth 
James Carey Thomas 
Mabel Fletcher 
Minnie E. Chase 
Annie Sabra Ramsey 
A. Elizabeth Goldberg 
Neill C. Wilson 
Jewell Chase 
Agnes Dorothy Campbell 
Marguerite Jacque 
Helen Merrill 
Gladys Nelson 
Dorothy Kuhns 
Irene Weil 

Hoy De Grove Baker 
Marjorie Cleveland 
Helen Janeway 
Winnifred Copley Smith 


Bernhard R. Naumburg 
Elsa Clark 
Kathleen A. Burgess 
Joan Spencer Smith 
Oscar Y. Brown 
Ransom R. Micks 
Ethel de Valcout Lynn 
Gladys Ralston Britton 
Marjory C. Todd 
Helen Prentiss Dunn 
Paul H. Todd 
Lula M. Larrabee 
Alice F. Richards 
Helene Burdett Fairchild 
Vera Johnston 
Maurice T. Martin 
Jessie Freeman Foster 
Marion E. Lane 

Elizabeth M. Billiard 
Mark Curtis Kinney 

Helen M. Boardman Delmar Gross Cooke 

Julia Wilmarth Williamson Eleanor Hinton 

Helen A. Scribner 

Marjorie V. Belts 

Frances R. Despard 

Philip Rabone 

Virginia Wainright 

Robert Lowe Hall 

Marie Margaret Kirkwood Florence Elizabeth Yoder 

Edwina Duffy 
Dorothy Coit 
Esther Cullen 
Eleanor T. Home 
Lesbia Crouse 
Jeanette Rathbun 
Elsie F. Weil 
Jennie M. Manley 
Eleanor Perrin 
Margaret I. Larimer 
Juliette Dorothy Halla 
Maria E. Wood 
J. Faxon Passmore 
Helen Janet Smith 
Marguerite Reed 
Evelyn V. S. Knox 
Gladys Edgerton 
Gwen Griffiths 
Sydney P. Thompson 
Viola Marguerite Graham 
Roger Allen 
Geoffrey Atkinson 
Alexander Dewar 
Helen Rouse 
Ethel Osgood 
Howard Frost 
Beatrice Lang 
Dorothea Bechtel 
G. B. Hazelhurst, Jr. 
Katherine Maxwell 


Elizabeth Eckel 
J. Gordon Gilkey 
Pearl Almena Maynarol 
Marie J. Hapgood 
Robert Paul Walsh 
Grace Parson 
Anna K. Earle 
Margaret C. Gooch 
Louise G. Stevenson 
Mary Blossom Bloss 
Mary D. Bailey 
Constance Badger 


Signe Swanstrom 
Tula Latzke 
Kathleen E. Bailey 
Herrick H. Harwood 
Valentine Rabone 
Margaret Robertson 
Elizabeth Lewis 
Elizabeth Wilder 
Jean O. Evans 
Elaine Sterne 
Alice A. Burgess 
Marguerite Wickham 
Louise Clemens 
Irene J. Graham 


Elizabeth R. Scott 
Charles Kabisius 
A. Brooks Lister 
Roger K. Lane 
Aline J. Dreyfus 
Arnold W. Lahee 
Alice Paine 
Rhoda E. Gunnison 
Margaret Winthrop Peck 
Robert W. Foulke 
Jessie C. Shaw 
Dory Hardy Richardson 
Lelia E. Perryman 
Letty Maxwell 
Fred H. Aldrich, Jr. 
Grace Leadingham 
Margaret Sharpe 
Margery Bradshaw 
Ada B. Latzke 
Fred Stearns 
Delia F. Dana 
Walter Swindell Davis 
Viola Ethel Hyde 
Lucile Cochran 
Robert S. Hammond 
Gilberta H. Daniels 
Lee Simonson 
Jack Sinclair 
Ruth P. Brown 
Hermann Louis Schaeffer 
William Hazlett Upson 
William C. Engle 


Harriet Park 
Elinor Hosie 
Elizabeth Chase Burt 
Peirce Charles Johnson 
Muriel M. K. E. Douglas 
Ruth Felt 
Phoebe Wilkinson 
Eleanore Woodward 
Sidney Moise 
Helen de Veer 
Mary S. Sims 
Raymond S. Frost 
Florence Votey 
Isadore Douglas 
Edith G. Daggett 
Gertrude Havens 
Harry Tedlie 
Anna B. Carolan 
Lawrence Sheridan 
Irma Jessie Diescher 
Nelly Nyce 
Frances Gillette 
Melville C. Levy 
May Lewis Close 
Darby Moore 

Angeline Huff 

Helen Bagoe 

Jean Herbet 

Harold Helm 

Dorothea Gay 

Vernon Radcliffe 

Leonie Nathan 

Katherine Maude Merriam Dorothy G. Thayer 

Harold M. Harvey Margaret B. Richardson 

Frances R. Newcomb Mary G. Taussig 

Ralph G. Heard Ruth Stone 

Margaret McKeon 
Winnie Sawyer 
Erica Bovey 
Joseph Fewsmith 
Harriette Barney Burt 
Jessie Louise Taylor 
Henry Altman 
Laura Gardin 
Herman Witte 
Carina Eaglesfield 
Robert C. Gummey 
Alice Seabrook 
Anna Heap Gleaves 
Howard Easton Smith 
Caroline Rogers 
Marguerite Jacques 
Gertrude Winans 
Katherine Goodwin Parker 
Erieda Werner 
Helen S. Readio 
Richard H. Wolle 
Marie Atkinson 
Kathleen F. Walker 
Harr> M. Osgood 
Anna Flichtner 
Mary T. Alwater 
Frances Hale Burt 
Marjory Chase 
Clara Carroll Earle 
St. Clair Breckons 
Leslie Spier 



Margaret Wynn Yancey Mary Gest 

Raymond R. Olson Lincoln Isham 

Karl Keffer, Jr. Douglas Cummings 

Bertha Gage Stone Katherine D. Barbour 

Leila Tucker Edith A. Roberts 

Clark Souers Isabel Garcia 

Frances Keeline Katie Nina Miller 
George Everett Williamson Henri Wickenden 
Emily W. Browne 


Edna Phillips 

Dorothy Mulford Riggs " Lucile Cochran 

Vivian Silvius Paul Goldsborough 

Eleanor I. Town Cyril B. Andrews 



Lawrence T. Hemmenway 
Dunbar Adams 
Fanny Ogden West 
Madelaine Dixon 
Dunton Hamlin 
Alexander White Moffatt 
Donald Douglas 
Levant M. Hall 
Louise T. Preston 
Margaret P. Anderson 
Katherine Miller 
Eleanor Anderson 
Sydney P. Clark 
Wendell F. Power 
Sarah S. Morgan 
Margaret Butler Paul 
John Rice Miner 
Sylvia Knowles 
Janet Lance 
Helen A. Peabody 
Ralph W. Howell 
Marion S. Cornly 
Rexford King 

Margaret Armour 
C. W. Ireland 
Margaretta V. Whitney 
Philip Roberts 
Dorothy Brown 
Thurlow S. Widger 
Winifred Booker 
Ethel M. Hauthaway 
Ethel Derby 
Florence R. T. Smith 
Ruth H. Brierley 
Robert Alhs Hardy 
James Alger Fee 
George Nelson Drew 
Mary R. Day 
Thomas S. Knap 
Joseph Rogers Swindell 
W. C. Ballantyne 
Esther U. Sidelinger 
Helen M. Post 
Eugene White, Jr. 

Reed L. Jones 

Philip Orme 

Helen F. Carter 

George Hill 

Tracy S. Voorhees 

Ellen Day 

Dorothy Gray Brooks 

Roy L. Sidelinger 

Kenneth Mcintosh 

Ruth F. Londoner 

Ellen Soumarokoff Elston 

Mary E. Dunbar 
Jack White 
Carlota Glasgow 
Sherman H. Bowles 
Margaret Griffith 
John De Lancey'Grist 
Edwin Arnold 
Harry Wechsler 
Margaret W. Mandell 
Martha Nickerson 
Philip Stark 
Angela Hubbard 
Gertrude Brice 
Robert S. Kelley 

Mary Hinton 
Annette Howe Carpenter 
Arnie Trattner 
William S. Weiss 
Margaret Brown 
Leonard L. Barrett 
Francis Wolle 
Walter Eugene Kirby 
Frances C. Hall 
William Carey Hood 
Clarence A. Southerland 
Katherine G. Leech 
Louis Stix Weiss 
S. L. Levengood 
Roger Wisner 
Richard A. v. Blucher 
Eric Sanville 


Owing to the great pressure on the League columns, it is impos- 
sible to allow the space for "Correspondents Wanted," and stamp 
exchange notices. Perhaps later in the season we shall have more 


Now that vacation-time is here, chapters can find both pleasure 
and profit in nature work. The Nature and Science department 
contains seasonable hints and suggestions for each month, and 
League chapters cannot do better than to make this department a 
feature of their work and recreation. 


No. 650. "Hewren-paire." Helen Fuller, President; Emily 
Webb, Secretary; two members. Address, 30 Grove St., Rock- 
land, Me. 

No. 651. "M. S. L." Elizabeth Bridge, President; Ailene 
Gundelfinger, Secretary ; five members. Address 1972 Green St., 
San Francisco, Cal. 

No. 652. "Xavier." Roberti Walsh, Secretary; thirty-seven 
members. Address, Students' Library, St. Xavier College, Cincin- 
nati, O. 

No. 653. "Audubon." Dorothea Romer, President; Carolyn 
Case, Secretary ; six members. 
Address, Ossining, N. Y. 

No. 654. " Bonny Chapter. " 
K. A. Breen, President ; Nellie 
Finn, Secretary ; four members. 
Address, 22 Whitney St., Rox- 

No. 655. "Jolly Good Times 
Club." Alice K. Knowles, Presi- 
dent; six members. Address 
L. Box 35, Putnam, Conn. 

No. 656. Elise Borroto, Presi- 
dent; five members. Address, 
510 W. 124th St., New York 

No. 657. " Sunny South." Edward L. Davis, President ; Alfred 
Sturtevant, Secretary ; five members. Address, Kuskla, Ala. 

No. 658. " F. W. S." Earle P. Frank, President; William W. 
Saut, Secretary; seven members. Address, 248 W. 4th St., East 
Liverpool, O. 

No. 659. Jennie MacGregor, President ; Katherine Fanning, 
Secretary; six members. Address, IT30 Gudson Ave., Evanston, 111. 

No. 660. "Camera Club." William T. Slover, Secretary; five 
members. Address, Elmsford, N. Y. 

No. 661. Bedford Chapter, recently organized in Brooklyn, with 
eight members. 


The St. Nicholas League awards gold and silver 
badges each month for the best poems, stories, draw- 
ings, photographs, puzzles, and puzzle-answers. 

A Special Cash Prize. To any League member 
who has won a gold badge for any of the above-named 
achievements, and shall again win first place, a cash 
prize of five dollars will be awarded, instead of another 
gold badge. 

Competition No. 46 will close July 20 (for foreign 
members July 25). The awards will be announced 
and prize contributions published in St. Nicholas 
for October. 

Verse. To contain not more than twenty-four lines, 
and may be illustrated, if desired, with not more than 
two drawings or photographs by the author. Title, 
" Apple-time." 

Prose. Article of not more than four hundred words. 
It may be illustrated, if desired, with not more than 
two drawings by the author. Title, " My Favorite 
Character in Fiction." 

Photograph. Any size, interior or exterior, mounted 
or unmounted, but no blue prints or negatives. Sub- 
ject, " Summer-time." 

Drawing. India ink, very black writing-ink, or 
wash (not color), interior or exterior. Two subjects, 
" From Life" and " A Heading for October." 

Puzzle. Any sort, but must be accompanied by the 
answer in full. 

Puzzle-answers. Best, neatest, and most complete 
set of answers to puzzles in this issue of St. Nicholas. 

Wild-animal or Bird Photograph. To encourage 
the pursuing of game with a camera instead of a gun. 
For the best photograph of a wild animal or bird taken 
in its natural home : First Prize, five dollars and League 
gold badge. Second Prize, three dollars and League 
gold badge. Third Prize, League gold badge. 


Every contribution, of whatever kind, must bear the 
name, age, and address of the sender, and be indorsed 
as "original" by parent, teacher, or guardian, who 
mast be convinced beyond doubt that the contribution 
is not copied, but wholly the work and idea of the 
sender. If prose, the number of words should also be 
added. These things must not be on a separate sheet, 
but on the contribution itself— it a manuscript, on the 
upper margin ; if a picture, on the margin or back. 
Write or draw on one side 
of the paper only. A con- 
tributor may send but one 
contribution a month — not 
one of each kind, but one 
only. Address all com- 
munications : 

The St. Nicholas League, 

Union Square, 




The " Alice in Wonder- 
land " competition seemed 
to please our young writers, and certainly 
brought us many bright little stories. We print 
one of them below, together with the names of 
the prize-winners. 

The usual three subscriptions to the magazine 
will be given this time for the best three letters 

" I have n't got it now, you see, but I might some 
day," she said. 

" Oh, about thirty thousand pounds," replied the 
overtaker. Alice looked worried. 

" Could n't you make it a little lower ? " she said. 
" I only have a shilling — " 

To her surprise, he burst into a spasm of weeping, 
which only ceased when the Duchess gave him, by mis- 
take, a cupful of mucilage. 

' Oh ! " he groaned, "all my life my ambition has 
received before July 25th from readers under been t0 get as high as possible, and for her to use 
eighteen years of age, telling of an incident they ' low ' in connection with me is too much ! " 

witnessed — something that pleased them, as an 
act of bravery, kindness, courtesy, unselfishness, 
or honor, performed by a girl or boy. Tell the 
incident in three hundred words or less, so that 
the reader may see the act rather than read 
your opinion of it. This is an exercise in 
descriptive writing. The letters will be judged 
according to the skill of the writer rather than 
by the nature of the act. 

Address " Books and Reading," St. Nicho- 
las Magazine. 


" Now," said the Duchess, " we '11 go to see the over- 

" The overtaker ? " echoed Alice. 

" Of course. You have undertakers, and we have an 

" But what does he do ? " 

"Why, takes you over." 

" Over what ? " 

" Anything, of course. Over a river or over the 
measles, or anything you wish." 

By this time they reached the overtaker's house. Its 
owner stood at the door. He was a most singular crea- 
ture. His hat, his hands, his whiskers — everything 
pointed upward. 

" Was he born that way ? " whispered Alice. 

" Hush ! No; he had to train himself to it." 

The overtaker now advanced to meet them. He did 
not shake hands, for his arms were raised above his 
head. Instead, he made a sort of spring in the air. 

" What is he doing ? " asked Alice. 

" It 's his way of bowing," replied the Duchess. 

They now entered the house, which was very curious, 
for all the furniture consisted of step-ladders ! 

After tea, which they ate from iron baskets suspended 
from the ceiling, Alice asked the overtaker how much 
he would charge to take her over an attack of whoop- 

" We 'd better go," said the Duchess ; so they de- 
parted, leaving the overtaker still sobbing on a step- 


Miriam A. De Eord. 


" Alice in Wonderland" Competition. 

1. Miriam A. De Ford (14), Philadelphia, Pa. 

2. Ethel Pickard (15), Rochester, N. Y. 

3. Joseph W. McGurk (17), Philadelphia, Pa. 


Willia Nelson (16). 
Frances R. Johnson (8). 
Marguerite Beatrice Child (16). 
Helen Van Dyck (12). 
James Carey Thomas (17). 
Emma Bugbee (14). 
Alfred Lowry, Jr. (15). 
Charlotte Katharine Gannett (14). 
Ruth E. Crombie (14). 
Frances A. Angevine (15)- 
H. Robert Backer (12). 
Frederick A. Coates (13). 
Everett P. Combes (12). 
Mildred D. Yenawine (14). 
Mary R. Hutchinson (tS). 
Henry Webb Johnstone (10). 
Will Sturges (10). 


It would be an excellent 
lesson to you all if you 
could yourselves be the judges in our prize- 
competitions. You would derive a number of 
useful conclusions from the experience. First, 
it would do you good to learn with what im- 
partiality your efforts are compared, and with 
what carefulness their merits are weighed. 
Second, you would appreciate how many 
swift "hares" are passed by the persevering 



"tortoises" — how much cleverness is thrown 
away for want of a little care and patience and 
industry. Third, you would learn to follow 
directions more exactly, and would see that 
the judges must give the first rank to those 
who fulfil the conditions of the contests. 
Fourth, you would learn how many losers fail 
by only a trifling defect — a defect the winners 
avoid, and yet one that no competitor need 
permit to remain in his work. Fifth, you 
would learn that no competitor is slighted or 
overlooked, or fails to be fully considered — 
and learning this, you would understand that 
every merit you can compass is worth while, 
and carries due weight. 

The more thoughtful of you know already 
that the little prizes given are of the very least 
importance. It is worth more than the winning 
of a prize merely to do your best. Every little 
essay you write is a most valuable lesson to 
you. If you paid a fair amount to have each 
essay considered and judged, you would profit 
more than the price would be to you. Make 
up your minds, therefore, to go into the compe- 
titions for your own sake, and, prize or no prize, 
consider your own improvement the best reward. 

A REPLY TO A " INQUIRER " writes ask- 

question. j n g a( ] v i ce about "over- 
coming wordiness in composition- writing." She 
says in her note : " I write such wordy compo- 
sitions, and when I try to cut down, the result 
is so stiff and stilted. When I write thinking 
of my faults, I am so unnatural. I want to 
overcome it, and at the same time keep my 
natural style." 

There is no name or address given in the 
letter, and no clue to the age of the writer; 
it is, therefore, possible to answer in a general 
way only. Probably the young author would 
find the advice she is seeking in Herbert Spen- 
cer's " Style " — a booklet published by D. Ap- 
pleton & Co. A young person's " style " should 
be no style at all. Style in writing must be 
a growth, and the result of long practice in 
the art. There is a simplicity and correctness 
in the use of language that should come before 
any thought of style. 

These virtues are lacking even in the short 
note sent in by this young writer, and yet they 
are attainable even by children, and are often 

attained by the young people who send in 
stories and similar work in the League compe- 
titions. One of the best rules" for a beginner is 
this : " Be sure you know what you wish to 
say, and then be sure you have said it." 

School compositions are very difficult to 
write, for the reason that often they are written 
only for the sake of writing something, and 
sometimes on subjects that do not interest the 
young writers. The topics given out are likely 
to be too big for the space given to them, and 
are occasionally such as children would never 
choose for themselves. 

The letters received about the competitions 
in this department are usually well written, — 
direct, simple, plain, and unpretending, — be- 
cause the young writers know exactly what they 
wish to say. The letters on " My Favorite 
Place for Reading " were excellent ; so were 
those on " The Birthday Dinner to Characters 
in Fiction." But the same writers might make 
poor work of such a subject as " Summer," or 
" A Day by the River," or " My Pets." An 
adult writer would do no better in the brief 
space given. 

If you have such subjects, you must learn 
to take only a little of the wide range cov- 
ered by the topic, and then think over the 
possibilities of the narrowed field. Clear think- 
ing makes clear writing. 


to his daughter. as m any of you know, 
noted as an artistic binder of beautiful books. 
To his daughter he gave a copy of Ruskin's 
" Unto this Last," which he had bound for her, 
and in it was this inscription : 

" This book, Stella, I was binding when you 
were born ; and being one of the noblest books 
I know, I covered it with such glory as I could 
of roses and stars, and set your name in the 
midst, and gave it to you, hoping that you 
would all your lifelong love it, and all your life 
long live in obedience to its precepts. 

" Your Father." 

Was n't that a dainty volume to set before a 
little queen ? Of course the " stars " in the 
design were meant to stand for his daughter's 
name — "Stella," meaning a star. With such 
a beginning how could the little girl fail to love 
books and the treasures they bring ? 


Contributors are respectfully informed that between the ist of June and the 15th of September manuscripts 
cannot conveniently be examined at the office of St. Nicholas. Consequently those who desire to favor the 
magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their manuscripts until after the last-named date. 

Bridgeport, Ala. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I am a little boy nine years 
old. I love your magazine better than anything. I 
like the continued stories better than any. I have had 
it two years. I like the story of" King Arthur and His 
Knights." I am very glad to get the St. Nicholas 
every month. I have a sister. My grandma reads me 
stories in the St. Nicholas. I have a little dog; he 
is black. I have a pair of little pigeons; they are pretty. 
I like to play with my pigeons. There are some stray 
cats that stay around the house. I am afraid that the 
cats will get my pigeons; my dog won't bother them. 
This is all I have to say. 

Your devoted reader, 

Charley Carroll Edmunds. 

" Cluny," Liscard, Cheshire, England. 

Dear St. Nicholas : We have taken you for fifteen 
years, and enjoy your pages so much ; I only wish you 
came out every week instead of every month. I have 
enjoyed all your continued stories, and the stories of 
little darky children come among my favorite short ones. 
I think the League is so interesting; I have written to 
join it. 

I have traveled in England, Scotland, and Wales, but 
I am longing to go on the Continent and to America. 

I have a canary which sings beautifully; I call it " Tril- 
by," after the girl who sang so well. I had a little black- 
and-white mouse called " Nibble." It used to hang from 
the top of its cage by its hind legs, as if it was doing 
gymnastics ; it escaped and came back three times. I am 
just fourteen. 

I edit a magazine, but it is a private one, just among 
my three favorite school friends and me. We have a 
meeting once a month, when we read the contributions 
and have great fun. 

I remain your interested reader, 

Jean N. Craigmile. 

Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I think it might interest you 
to hear about the trip we are taking. 

We left New York early in December, and after a fine 
trip across the Atlantic landed at Antwerp. After travel- 
ing through Italy, we joined a yacht in Naples, on which 
we were then to take the rest of our trip. 

We stopped at several places before we came to Tunis, 
Africa, about which I am going to tell you. It interested 
us more than any other place, because it was so very 
different from America. 

There are four foreign races there — the French, 
Arabs, Bedouins, and Jews. It was very interesting to 
watch them. The Arabs dressed just as they used to 
hundreds of years ago. The first day we were in Tunis 
it was so strange that it frightened us ; but we got used 
to it. The big bazaar was the most attractive place of 

all. It was like a large house with no second story, and 
so many streets that it was like a maze. On one street 
the shoemakers would be, on another the goldsmiths, on 
another the perfume-makers, and so on. 

The booths or stores were like big square boxes, with 
one side entirely open to the street ; for, as the street 
itself is covered, they need no door. In these boxes five 
or six of these strange people would be sitting Turk- 
fashion on their legs. We must have seen at least a 
hundred of these queer stores. And the women that 
bought the wares, how odd they looked, with black veils 
over their faces, queer slippers on their feet, and strange 
white things twisted around them ! The men are very 
curious-looking, too, with great large turbans on their 
heads. Some of the rich Arabs had beautiful robes. 
Their figures were mostly tall and stately. The Jewish 
women do not wear veils over their faces, but they wear 
queer pointed things on their heads. We saw some very 
sweet-looking young Jewesses. The bazaar seemed like 
a different world to us, with its strange men and women. 
Your devoted League member, 

M. C. H. 

Palo Alto, Cal. 

Dear St. Nicholas: I think you are the best 
magazine in the world. 

Ever so many of my favorite authors write for you. 

I think " Betty " is one of the best stories I ever read, 
and " Quicksilver Sue," and oh, ever so many others. 
I love Mrs. Jackson's stories, "Denise and Ned Toodles," 
" The Colburn Prize," " Pretty Polly Perkins," and 
"Big Jack." 

I love Ernest Seton's stories, because I love animals, 
and also Kirk Munroe and Miss Alcott. 

We, my sisters Ruth and Mary (nine and ten) and 
Lou (seven) and I have three cats. My cat, who is 
named " Cricket," is not very sociable, for he generally 
runs away when anyone comes near him. 1 he other 
two follow me around like a dog does when I am out- 
doors, and when I climb trees they come up after me. 
To-day I took my cat up pretty high, and the other two 
followed me. Mary's came up all right, for he was n't 
afraid, but Ruth's was. Every time I put out my hand 
to take her she would turn tail and go down to the place 
where the limb began. I was on a limb that branched 
off from a larger one, and the other small one was down 
a little ways below me. Sometimes the cat would go 
down on this lower limb and look up at me and " me-ow ! " 
At last she got up on the right branch and I got her, 
but she was so frightened that I let her go. 

We have a black dog also, and when I get on the 
wheel he is so glad we are going (for he goes along too) 
that he jumps all around and tries to take the front wheel 
in his mouth. 

Mama had about a dozen hens, but two or three nights 
ago some one stole five of them. 

Wishing you a long and happy life, I remain, 
Your very interested reader, 

Esther W. Shaw. 



Novel Double Acrostic. Second row, Beethoven ; fifth row, 
moonlight ; Cross-words : i. Abram's. 2. Nelson. 3. Censor. 4 
String. 5. Should. 6. Tomtit. 7. Avenge. 8. Weight. 9. In 

Diagonal. Buttercups, r. Butterfly. 2. Turbulent. 3. Sat 
isfied. 4. Stationer. 5. Wonderful. 6. Confirmed. 7. Spectacle 
8. Frivolous. 9. Queenship. 

Hidden Celebrities. Initials, Washington. 1. Webster. 
Arkwright. 3. Scott. 4. Homer. 3. Ibsen. 6. Nelson. 7 
Grant. 8. Taine. 9. Ossian. 10. Newton. 

Double Acrostic. Primals, The Crisis; finals, Churchill 
Cross-words: 1. Traffic. 2. Hitch. 3. Elihu. 4. Checker. 5 
Relic. 6. Inch. 7. Semi. 8. Identical. 9. Sentinel. 

Illustrated Central Acrostic. Monroe. 1. Skimmer. 2. 
Almonds. 3. Spinner. 4. Sparrow. 5. Coronet. 6. Rosebud. 

Novel Double Acrostic Initials, G. Washington; third row, 

Valley Forge. Cross-words : 1. Giver. 
Salem. 5. Hyena. 6. Idyls. 7. 

>. Organ. 11. Niece. 


r~ ,, IJ 

. Re-b-el. 
6. Ho-r-se. 

.. Weary. 3. Ailed. 4. 
,,*. 7. Nifle. 8. Gnome. 9. Tired. 

10. Organ, n. Niece. 
Insertions. Inserted letters, Bunker Hill. 1 

Wo-u-ld. 3. Mi-n-ce. 4. Di-k-es. 5. Fi-e-nd. 1 
Ap-h-is. 8. Ho-i-st. 9. Co-l-on. 10. So-l-ar. 
Word-squares. I. 1. Fade. 2. Away. 3. D 

11. 1. Dies. 2. Idea. 3. Eels. 4. Sash. 
Hidden Words. Initials, Robespierre. 1. Rover. 

3. Bunch. 4. Ether. 5. Start. 6. Piper 
9. Rider. 10. River. 11. Erect. 

Connected Squares. I. 1. Faced. 
Edict. 5. Delta. II. 1. Canal. 2. / 
s. Linen. III. 1. April. 2. Paune. 

Dale. 4. Eyes. 

2. Other. 
7. India. 8. Entry. 

Civil. 4}. 
4. Abase. 

...... 2. Abide. 3 

.. Canal. 2. Alibi. 3. Nisan. ., 
5. Linen. III. 1. April. 2. Paune. 3. Rumen. 4. Inert. 5- 
Lente. IV. 1. Regal. 2. Elate. 3. Gamin. 4. Atilt. 5. Lente. 
V. 1. Elect. 2. Lathe. 3. Ether. 4. Chess. 5. Terse. 

To our Puzzlers; Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the 15th of each month, and 
should be addressed to St. Nicholas Riddle-box, care of The Century Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City. 

Answers to all the Puzzles in the April Number were received, beforeApril 15th, from "M. McG." — Joe Carlada — Dan- 
iel Milton Miller —Esther M. Walker — Ernest H. Watson — Mary E. Miller — William R. M. Very — ' ' Allil and Adi " — Mabel, George, 
and Henri — "Johnny Bear"— Emerson — Grant Sutcliffe — Mollie G. — "Chuck" — -Ralph Keithley Dawson — Margaret C. Wilby — 
Helen Garrison — Laurence F. Nutting — Betty Brainerd — Marian Priestley Toulmin — Olive R. T. Griffin — Lawrence and Frederica 
Mead — Robert Porter Crow — Grace L. Massonneau — Lilian Sarah Burt — Gertrude Louise Cannon — Helen Clark Perry — Sara Law- 
rence Kellogg— Constance H. Irvine. 

Answers to Puzzles in the April Number were received, before April 15th, from K. H. Toadvin, 1 — M. Howarth, 1 — E. Cra- 
ger, 1 — Emi!ie and Anna, 1 — Edith L. Kaskel, 3 — Gertrude M Corbett, 2 — H. S. Worstell, 1 — L. Pfeiffer, 1 — N. Morrill, Jr., 1 — 
R. Huyl, 1 — Beatrice Reynolds, 5 — D. Hungerford, 1 — E. V. R. Limont, 1 — P. Follett, 1 — Harold Blood, 5 — M. Pitt, 1 — Helen L. 
Jelliffe, 8 — F. C. Hall, 1 — B. Faymonville, Jr. , 1 — H. Tobie, 1 — Mabel T. Mills, 4 — Helen M. Wallar, 5 — Mildred A. Parker, 6 — 
Ella L. Baer, 9 — J. Welles Baxter, 4 — H. Chapin, 1 — Irma J. Gehres, 7 — E. F. Kressly, 1 — A. Weinberg, 1 — O. Williamson, 1 — 
W. G. Rice, Jr., 6 — Deane F. Ruggles, 7 — A. T. Carter, 1 — M. Campbell, 1 — A. G. Gordon, 1 — Frederika Doringh, 1 — M. Fish- 
burne, 1 — Evelyn G. Patch, 5 — A. Fisher, 1 — D. Andrews, 1. 


(Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 
4 .... 2 

a measure for cloth. 10. 
and leave a number. 1 1 
leave part of a circle. 12 
and leave a grassy field, 
and leave a small cavern. 

Behead the fruit of the pine 
Behead a German coin and 
Behead a troublesome insect 

13. Behead a happy place 

14. Behead joyful and leave 
a youth. 15. Behead hence and leave a road. 

When the words left have been written one below 
another, the zigzag, beginning at the upper left-hand 
letter and ending with the lower right-hand letter, will 
spell the name of a holiday. James brewster. 

Cross-words: i. A fraction of a minute. 2. Rank. 
3. Diminutive. 4. A monastery. 5. Hostility. 6. 

From I to 2 and from 3 to 4 spells something which 
had its beginning in the month of July. 



(Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

1. Behead a fur-bearing animal and leave a black 
fluid. 2. Behead to twist and leave a termination. 3. 
Behead sour and leave an epic poem of Spain. 4. Be- 
head to hasten off and leave a sheltered place. 5. Be- 
head an heroic poem and leave a Turkish cloth measure. 
6. Behead the end of a prayer and leave human beings. 
7- Behead a masculine name and leave part of the title 
of a famous "story by Lew Wallace. 8. Behead manner 
and leave a poem. 9. Behead a small valley and leave 





10 . 

• 13 
14 ■ 

3 • ■ 
• 4 • 
12 . 5 
. 6 . 

Cross-words: i. Balance. 2. A strait connecting 
two seas. 3. A sea-nymph. 4. Moldy. 5. A black 
man. 6. A fay. 7. Destroys. 8. A very large body 
of water. 9. Method. 

From I to 9, an island of the West Indies ; from ro to 
14, its principal article of export. 

donna J. todd (League Member), 




(Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

Alt. the words described contain the same number of 
letters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another, the zigzag, beginning at the upper left-hand 
letter and ending with the lower left-hand letter, will 
spell the name of a story published in Volume XXVII 
of St. Nicholas. 

Cross-words: i. Somewhat old. 
wine. 3. Foes. 4. Heartfelt. 5. 
fabric. 6. Formal permission. 7. 
mads. 8. One related by blood. 9. 
A magazine for grown people. 

Clear to the vision, 

2. Pure spirit of 
A rich flowered 
Pertaining to no- 
Alight shoe. 10. 
11. A smirk. 12. 
13. The supreme monarch of an 


When the above objects have been rightly named and 
written one below another, in the order in which they 
are numbered, the initial letters will spell the name of 
prominent emblems of Independence Day. 
Designed by 
Dorothy P. Tuthill (League Member). 


(Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition.) 

Example : Doubly curtail in pursuit of, rearrange 
the remaining letters, and make fleshy. Answer Aft-er, 
aft, fat. 

I. Doubly curtail a garment worn throughout the 
Levant, rearrange the remaining letters, and make a 
reality. 2. Doubly curtail a common remedy for 
bruises, rearrange the remaining letters, and make to 
fall in drops. 3. Doubly curtail a bug that destroys 
wheat, rearrange the remaining letters, and make a 
measure of length. 4. Doubly curtail a descendant of 

Levi, rearrange the remaining letters, and make wicked. 
5. Doubly curtail to reach a conclusion, rearrange the 
remaining letters, and make small cubes used in various 
games. 6. Doubly curtail to soak, rearrange the re- 
maining letters, and make to tear asunder. 7. Doubly 
curtail fabricated, rearrange the remaining letters, and 
make an image. 8. Doubly behead refined, rearrange 
the remaining letters, and make money. 9. Doubly 
behead the capital of a Western State, rearrange the re- 
maining letters, and make the hinder part of the foot. 
10. Doubly curtail as much as the arm can hold, rear- 
range the remaining letters, and make a tract of land 
devoted to agricultural purposes. 11. Doubly curtail 
to apprehend, rearrange the remaining letters, and make 
to raise. 12. Doubly curtail to come in contact with, 
rearrange the remaining letters, and make not in. 13. 
Doubly curtail to divulge, rearrange the remaining let- 
ters, and make always. 14. Doubly curtail certain 
articles that are useful on a desk, rearrange the remain- 
ing letters, and make the common glass vessel in which 
most medicines come. 15. Doubly curtail parts of a 
jacket, rearrange the remaining letters, and make imagi- 
nary little beings. 16. Doubly curtail clemency, rear- 
range the remaining letters, and make a slender, strong 

The initials of the new words will spell the name of a 
man who revolutionized early education. 



My primals name an English author and my finals a 
French author. 

Cross-words (of equal length): 1. Plotted. 2. 
The American reindeer. 3. A small animal found in 
many of the Southern States. 4. A kind of silk fabric. 
5. Tiresome. 

JOHN DE lancey grist (League Member). 


Reading downward : 1. In Washington. 2. To 
drink, little by little. 3. Tasteless from age. 4. One 
who scatters grain. 5- A- black, sticky substance. 6. 
An inclosure for swine. 7- A pronoun. 8. To dress 
leather. 9. An Easter flower. 10. A common verb of 
two letters. 

From I to 2, the name of a famous Indian chief. 

William ellis keysor (League Member). 


I. A flat, circular plate. 2. A common metal. 3. A 
tune sung by a single voice. 4. A hard protuberance. 
g. g. whitehead (League Member). 


The words described are of unequal length. The 
second word begins with the letter with which the first 
word ends, the third word begins with the last letter of 
the second word, and so on. When rightly guessed and 
written one below another, the initials will spell some- 
thing which Americans won. 

Cross-words: 1. A useful metal. 2. Necessity. 3. 
Dreadful. 4. To fit out. 5. A heap. 6. Level. 7. 
Denominated. 8. To venture. 9. To acquire by labor. 
10. A drug which produces sleep. 11. A cavern. 12. 
A point of the compass. 

Florence hoyte (League Member). 


rf Cleanliness of body was 
ever esteemed to proceed 
from a due reverence to God, 
to society and to ourselves." 


From the end of the 18 th Century 
to the beginning of the 20 th 


has been popularly recognised 
as the clean and cleansing soap. 

All rights secured. 
July, 1903. 



4 I 


POLITICAL events taking place in Turkey, as the 
result of troubles in Albania, will attract the atten- 
tion of collectors to the stamps of that portion of the 
world. Turkish stamps have never been great favorites. 
The variations in them are often slight, and the designs 
are not very interesting. It is, however, the proper 
time for collectors who desire to complete their sets of 
the stamps of the nineteenth century to take up these 
issues. There are many varieties which it is not diffi- 
cult to obtain, but only a little increase in the demand 
for them will make a great change in their scarcity. 
It is thus with many countries that are included in the 
catalogue. Collectors, not being especially interested in 
them, do not make any great effort to secure them, but 
the moment that they do they find out that the relatively 
common ones are difficult to obtain in fair condition. 

The new set for the Orange River 
Colony, bearing the king's head, dif- 
fers from the stamps of other British 
colonies in having upon it two of the 
animals of the country. The design is 
certainly odd, and its unusual charac- 
ter will cause it to be appreciated by 

It is expected that the conclusion of the negotiations 
which have been going on between Denmark and the 
United States in relation to the Danish West Indies will 
be the annexation of these islands to this country. The 
number of stamps that have been issued in these small 
islands has not been great, and in some cases the 
issues themselves have been very small. The interest 
in them, therefore, is certain to increase, and many de- 
nominations will become scarce. 




A f I ^HE question of the condition of stamps is one that is 

_L becoming more and more prominent. The older 
issues of almost all countries were printed upon a less 
durable paper than that which is used at the present 
time. The proper method of manufacturing stamps not 
being understood, en graving companies frequently printed 
them upon paper, and employed a quality of gum which 
caused them to crack badly when they were used. An 
example of this is found in the early stamps of Servia, 
the thick gum of which often causes the hard paper to 
break in two, thus destroying a stamp which has not had 
any rough handling. It is a good thing to remove the 
original gum from old issues which show a tendency to 
break on account of it. When this is done, however, 
the gum should be removed by the application of mois- 
ture to the back of the stamp, and not by dropping it 
into water, as in many cases the original freshness of a 
stamp is injured by wetting it. 


IT is said that a change is likely to take place soon in 
the stamps of Tonga. This country has had a very 
pleasing series of stamps, the early issues bearing the 
heads of native rulers, and the later ones including de- 
signs showing the natural characteristics of the country, 
its mountains, bays, trees, and birds. It is believed that 
the change of government will be to that of English sover- 
eignty, and that the new stamps will bear the king's head. 


THE difficulty which China is having with Russia in 
Manchuria naturally directs attention to the stamps 
of those countries. Chinese issues have always been fa- 
vorites. Russian stamps are beautiful and are well 
liked, but there has not been the strong desire on the 
part of collectors to obtain them which their excellence 
merits. No finer or more beautiful designs have ever 
been prepared than the delicate ones which are seen on 
the stamps of Russia. The country also has always been 
conservative so far as the issues of quantities of stamps 
are concerned. There have been comparatively few 
changes in the issues, and these not such as the govern- 
ment would regard as changes, although collectors do ; 
that is, collectors notice a variation in water-mark and \j 
slight differences in designs, but with the government 
making an issue these things are usually regarded as of 
no consequence and as not marking a new issue. 


THE designs of the stamps of St. Vincent are con- 
sidered to be the best that have been produced for „ 
any country. That of the five-shilling is more favorably V 
regarded than any other, being held by many to be, from 
an artistic standpoint, the finest ever issued. Revenue 
stamps used for postal purposes are not listed in the cata- 
logue unless they were authorized by edict of some 
government. It is difficult in some cases to be certain 
that this edict has been issued, but at the present time 
no new varieties are added to the catalogue unless govern- 
mental authority for their issue is shown. The revenue 
stamps used for postal purposes in Montserrat were of the 
old issue, printed in very dark red. Some of the late reve 
nue stamps printed in light red have been cleaned of 
pen-mark cancelations and offered for sale with postal 
cancelations. The cancelation of almost any revenue 
stamp upon an envelope may be secured from post- 
masters in. small countries, so that the only way to be 
sure that a revenue stamp has been thus used in a proper 
manner is to find the edict allowing its issue. Pen can- 
celations on stamps of British colonies show that they 
have been used for revenue purposes. 








flflflfl Different stamps pasted on sheets 

IUUU ready to mount in Album, $5.00, 
post free. 

Send for new circular of prices, etc. 
Would you like to try our Approval Sheets at 50% 
discount ? 

Scott Stamp & Coin Co., 

18 East 23d Street, 

New York.N. Y. 

100 DIFFERENT foreign stamps, 1 cents. 
Only one to each person. Finest approval 
sheets, 50% com. Large list of albums, packets, 
cheap stamps, etc., free. New England 

STAMPS finely mixed, only ioc. 50 all diff., 5c. ioodiff. 
Corea, Mexico, etc., ioc. 1000 hinges (union), ioc. 40 
diff. U.S. and Canada, ioc. Agts. wanted, 50%. List 
Old stamps bought. Onion Stamp Co. , Dept. 1), St. lonis, Mo. 


300 foreign stamps, 10c; 104 varieties, Bulgaria, 
Malta, &c, 10c; 200 varieties, 25c; 300 varieties, 50c; 
500 varieties, $1.25; 1000 varieties, $4.00; 40 varieties, 
U. S., 10c. 32-page list free. Sheets of stamps on 
approval at 50% discount. 
D. CROWELL STAMP CO., 143 Euclid Ave., Cleveland, 0. 

FREE! A set of beautiful U.S. stamps, face value $6.00, for ad- 
dress of collector and return postage. Finest sheets 50% com. 
Agents wanted. KOLONA STAMP CO.,, Dept. N, Dayton, Ohio. 

STAMPS 10 ° aU different Peru . Cuba > Bolivia, 
UIHIIIrgi Mexico, Argentine, Brazil, Costa Rica, 
Turkey, Persia, Tunis, etc., and ALBUM, ONLY 10c. 
1000 fine mixed, 20c. 1000 hinges, 10c. 60 different 
U. S., 25c. Agents wanted, 50%. 1903 List FREE. 
Stegman,Dept. D, 5941 Cote Brilliante av., St. Louis, Mo. 

QTIUQC Choice approval sheets at 50% commission 

Dept. B. 

References required. 100 varieties Foreign, 2c 


list, 2C 4 large U. S. Cents, 20c. 50% disc, on V. S. and 
FOREIGN STAMPS ; seconds at 70% disc Estab. 1883. 


■J ture stamps, 7c. 

100, all different, for names of two collectors 

and 2c. postage. 4 new Guatemala pic- 


SALVADOR 8 diff. unused ioc, 2 Labuan deer 4c, 1000 Hinges, 
8c. Postage zc. Geo. M. Fisk, Vermont Ave., Toledo, 0. 

OfP JlUfpO 3 Malta, 4c; 6 Straits, ioc; 6 Hong Kong, 8c; 10 Java, 
OlrUlirO 8c; 500 Canada, 28c; 3 Crete, 5c; Cloth Album, 500 
spaces, 6c Cata. free. The Colonial Co., 2435 Michigan Ave., Chicago. 

TUC II A I QV CIV VII I CD destro ^ s a11 th e flies and af- 
rit UMIOl [LI l\ ILL ClI fords comfort to every home 
— in. dining-room, sleeping- 
room and all places where 
flies are troublesome. Clean, 
neat and will not soil or in- 
jure anything. Try them 
once and you will never be 
without them. If not kept by 
dealers, sent prepaid for 20c. 
149 DeKnlb Ave., 
Brooklyn, N. X. 

Aeolicraft Model Yacht 

Sails on a tight wire ; goes about automatically 
at each end ; keeps in motion as long as the 
wind blows. 

The Latest Outdoor Sport. 
Fascinating to old and young. Beautifully 
made. Single, $2.50; pair, for racing, 
$4.50, express prepaid. 

Send for descriptive booklet free. 

FBANKXIjST model shop, 
125 West 31st Street, New York City. 


by doing swayvritktke rubbing it prolongs 

the life and beauty of delicate Fabrics. 

Besides-PEARLINE enables 

any woman to do coarse Washing. 

■ i :; '■ 

Dept. R 


Palestine. s YR ,» 


Nursery Toilet and Bath. 




learn Electro-Plating 1 

The well-known Paragon Plating; Outfit, with ac- 
companying printed instructions and harmless chemi- 
cals, enables anyone to learn practical electro -plating; 
it is adapted for household use and small custom-work. 
You can gold-plate watch-cases, jewelry, ornaments. 
etc., and silver-plate knives, forks, spoons, etc., ana 
nickel-plate small articles of brass and steel. 

Apparatus, with supply of Gold. $2.50; with Silver or 
Nickel, $2.00; with Gold and Silver and Nickel, $3.75. 

Mailed on receipt of price by money-order or regis- 
tered letter. Circulars and prospectus' free. 

Manufacturers 1 Plating Outfits, f° r factory, work- 
shop and custom-work. (Agents wanted.) 

Electrotechnic and Chemical Co. (Inc.), 

72 Washington Square, South, New York City. 







POVERTY in old age is pitiable, but how much sadder is broken health. Proper food in 
youth insures health in old age. But if the body is slugged with wrong food or drink, 
good health cannot result. Many are wise with money but wasteful of health. 

You cannot save money if you squander it nor save health if you waste it. More health 
is wasted on improper food and drink than in any other way. Coffee and tea contain strong 
drugs that directly affect the heart and other organs and the nerves. They have ruined many 
and hurt nearly all who drink them. Sometimes coffee tears down tissue so rapidly that its 
ill effects are shown almost as soon as drinking it is begun. In others it works so slowly that 
years pass before collapse. In a few, it apparently works no harm, and these are held up to 
the world by the unthinking as proof positive that " Coffee does not hurt." 

Wrong nine times out of ten, for not more than one person in ten can drink coffee and 
not suffer. To prove this, see how many coffee drinkers you can find who are perfectly well. 
Maybe you have tried to stop and failed, because there are two ways and you tried the wrong one. 

Get a package of POSTUM FOOD COFFEE (which is made from the purest 
cereals) and carefully read directions. Make it strong, boil it thoroughly, serve it hot. It is 
then a rich seal brown. Add sugar and cream and it becomes a tempting golden brown in 
color. The aroma is appetizing, so is the taste. It does not taste exactly like coffee. The 
flavor is original, and you will soon grow to like it for this. You can drink it at all meals, 
certain that it will give you health, strength, and vigor. It will steady and quiet your nerves 
and induce sweet natural sleep, not from any drug, but from food which Nature calls for and 
is quiet when supplied. That's why a well-fed baby sleeps well. 

Coffee injures nine out of ten. 

POSTUM positively does restore health and vigor to the nervous coffee wreck. 

There is a reason. 





One or Two- Dollar 


will double the summer fun of any wide-a- 
wake boy or girl. Pictures of vacation 
haunts are well worth preserving, and 
photography is now so simple that anybody 
can make good pictures. 

No DarR»Room Necessary 

A sk your dealer or write us for the 
illustrated Brownie Booklet. 



Photographic Perfection 

is attained by making* your negatives on 


and your prints on 

ANSCO and CYKO have no peers in Keeping- Quality and in 
Latitude of Exposure and Development. 
Trial Dozen 4x5 CYKO and Developer, 20 cents. 

ANSCO films are made under the celebrated Goodwin Patent 
and are adapted for Kodak's, bull's-eyes and all Film Cameras. 

CYKO Manual and ANSCO Booklet sent on application, 


122-124 Fifth Ave., New York. Atlas Block, Chicago 






First-class to Denver, Colorado Springs and Pueblo from Chicago, com- 
mencing June l and continuing throughout the summer, good returning 
October 31. Tickets reading to same points and return will be sold at 
the rate of $25.00 from July 1 to 10. Return limit, August 31. Corres- 
pondingly low rates from other points. 

The Colorado Special 

fast daily train, one night to Denver from Chicago and the Central 
States (only two nights en route from the Atlantic seaboard), 
leaves Chicago daily 6.30 p. m. ■*- 

A second daily train leaves Chicago 11.30 p. m. 
Personally conducted excursions in tourist sleep- 
ing cars. 

All agents sell tickets via this route. 

Write for particulars to W. B. Kniskhrn, P. T. M 

C & N.-W. Ry., Chicago. 

Chicago, Union Pacific and 
North-Western Line 


r <0^£ffp* 



July, 1903. 



Ralston Purina 

Miller at Work. 

"Hello! Have you 
tried my latest? 
Something to live for, 
then. It's 'Crisps' — 
Ralston Health Crisps. 
'Good aa Ralston?' Well, it ought to be : I just take 
the same rich wheat that I make Ralston Breakfast 
Food out of; cook it, roll it into crispy flakes and toast 
it to a turn in my ovens. It's ' as good as -wheat,' as 
they say; no flavoring extracts, no coloring — just wheat, 
treated respectfully, not insulted. Of course Ralston 
Health Crisps is a little better than any other. 

" ' Good enough ' never was put in a Checkerboard pack- 
age and never will be. ' Checkerboard ' means ' best.' " 

You nowhave your choice of either 
a cool dish of Ralston Health Crisps 
or a warm dish of Ralston Breakfast 
Food— both delicious summer foods. 


St. Nicholas League Advertising Competition No. 26. 
Time to send in answers is up July 25th, ipoj. Prizes awarded in September number. 

There is an old proverb which says, 
" Keep anything for seven years, and 
you will find a use for it." Here is a 
bit of outline. Let us see whether you 
can find a use for this meaningless line. 
For the next competition, please make 
this into an advertising drawing by 
adding lines of your own. You may 
turn it about any way you choose, but 
this figure must make part of the draw- 
ing you submit. See practical illustra- 
tion on next page. Age will be con- 
sidered in awarding all the prizes in this 
competition, and younger members are 
especially invited to compete. 


1. There will be twenty-five prizes of $2.00 
each, fifty dollars in all. 

2. Drawings must be in black ink on white 
paper not more than ten inches wide or high. 

3. Each competitor may submit not more 
than three drawings. 

4. Any reader of St. Nicholas not over 
eighteen years of age may compete, and 
age will be considered in making the 

5. Designs must reach the judges by July 

2 5> J 9°3- 

6. Do not inclose stamps or stamped en- 

7. Put on left-hand upper corner the words 
" Competition 26," and put on the back of your 
drawings your name, age, address, and the 
words "Original work" signed by some older 

8. Address : 

Advertising Competition No. 26, 
St. Nicholas League, The Century Co., Union Square, New York. 


In order to get the outline for a beginning, 
you may either cut it out of the page and paste 
it on your drawing, or you may make a tracing 
of it on thin paper, and paste the tracing on 
your drawing. Turn it round and round until 
it suggests a figure to you. Remember that 
faces are the easiest things to make. After 
making the line into a picture write a few 
words of advertising to go with it — something 
to make your drawing a possible advertisement. 

The other regular League competitions need 

not in any way interfere with your joining in 
these advertising contests. Advertisements for 
any of the firms advertising in St. Nicholas 
are always welcome, and if used by the adver- 
tisers will be paid for. 

Remember that in this present contest, the 
younger competitors will be specially consid- 
ered, and will have special chances of winning 
prizes. Drawings containing clever or un- 
usual ideas may win even if not so well ex- 
ecuted as others not so amusing or original. 

'&Z&Z?2?ZZ&? Z&Z?^^ 


St. Nicholas League Advertising Competition No. 23 — drawings designed for "advertisers 
who seldom or never appear in St. Nicholas," Contest announced in April St. Nicholas. 

One First Prize, 

Three Second Prizes, 
$1.00 each : 

Five Third Prizes, 
$2. 00 each: 

Joseph W. McGurk (17), Philadelphia, Pa. (Wheatlet.) 

Fred. Stearns (17), Chicago, 111. (Cream of Wheat.) 
Ruth E. Crombie (14), Brooklyn, N. Y. (Uneeda Biscuit.) 
Walter Swindell Davis (15), Baltimore, Md. (Bristol Steel Rod.) 

Henry Sturges (13), Shelton, Conn. (Wizard Top.) 
Vernon Radcliffe (14), Brooklyn, N. Y. (Velox Paper.) 
Cordner H. Smith (15), Washington, Ga. (Ingersoll Watch.) 
Rose C. Goode (17), Boydton, Va. (Eaton-Hurlbut Paper.) 
Katharine Gay (12), New York City. (Best & Co.) 




Tiventy-six Consolation Prizes $1.00 each: 

Ruth M. Peters (16). (Cream of Chocolate.) 
Chester E. Haring (17). (Libbey Glass.) 
Gladys M. Cornish (13). (Curtice Bros. Soups.) 
Philip P. Cole (12). (Elgin Watch Co.) 
Marjorie Betts (14). (Bristol Steel Rod.) 
Graham Hawley (17). (F. P. C. Wax.) 
Elizabeth Stockton (14). (Best & Co.) 
Frederick Yaffa (15). (Columbia Phonograph.) 
Elsie Schobinger (16). (Mellin's Food.) 
Fred. Scholle (13). (Shawknit.) 
Florence Mason (13). (Columbia Graphophone.) 
Edythe Smeethe (16). (Puritan Shoes.) 
Robert E. Andrews (14). (Oldsmobile.) 

Gladys Ralston Britton (17). (Spiro Powder.) 

Irene Dalton (17). (Sun Stove Polish.) 

Helen Ruff (15). (Williams' Shaving Stick.) 

Dorothy Milford (12). (Best & Co.) 

M. 0. Hopkins (17). (Van Camp's Soups.) 

Beth Howard (16). (Burpee's Seeds.) 

Richard A. Reddy (15). (Presto.) 

Mark Curtis Kinney (15). (Higgins' Ink.) 

Elizabeth Q. Bolles (17). (Macbeth's Chimneys.) 

Elizabeth W. Paige (17.) (Onyx Hosiery.) 

Robert Baldwin (11). (Shawknit.) 

Louis F. May (16). (Mother's Oats.) 

Alice Paine (14). (Crestmobile.) 


A Few Remarks on Competition No. 23. 

In considering the drawings submitted, 
preference was given to those that appealed 
especially to the St. Nicholas public. Many 
very clever advertisements failed to win prizes 
because they were no better adapted to this 
magazine than to another. There were a few 
good drawings excluded because of a failure to 
keep the rules, — though this is, as you all know 
by this time, an easily avoidable fault, — and 
some good ideas failed to succeed because 
their authors were very careless in working 
them out. It may be repeated here that care- 
less work does not win prizes in these competi- 
tions. There are so many bright boys and 
girls who are industrious and skillful as well as 
clever that the careless workers are distanced. 
To the brighter workers, another word of 
caution: Make your drawings refined. Slap- 
dash work is less impressive, after all, than 
sound, careful drawing. 


" If it is Ivory it must be Good ! 

A drawing' such as 
younger competitors, 
of the given line.) 

might be made by the 
(A, B, C, mark the ends 












To the Boys and Girls who take part in the St. Nicholas League 
Advertising Competitions. 



Do you want to win an excellent rifle? 

If so, all you have to do is to give good reasons why you 
should own a rifle. Write a letter to us containing your argument 
why a boy or girl should be taught to shoot and allowed to own a 
rifle, and if you secure your parents' or guardians' consent, and if 
it is decided that you have written one of the twenty-five best letters 
we receive before September ist, 1903, you shall have your rifle, a 
" Stevens No. 17 Favorite," the price of which is $6. Thus you 
may win a free rifle as a prize for writing a letter. 

Just imagine yourself arguing with your father that he should 
buy you a rifle, and tell us what argument you would use. 

We believe every boy and girl should learn to shoot 

a rifle, and to care for it. 

We should like to convince your parents and guardians 

that we are right in the belief. 

We want you to furnish us with the incidents, ideas, 

or arguments that will convince them. 


You may secure your arguments and facts wherever you can 
— and may have assistance in preparing your letters. Give your ^ 
name, age, address, and mail your letters before September ist, ^ 
1903, to 

Room 24, 244 Washington Street, Boston, Massachusetts. 



Ride a good Kor/1 to Baabury Cross,) 
lb give little/flady aride: 

Ok.thc road's aPKot irorv 
Witk F.P.C.waxed— 

So the dear little lady can slide 

The only wax that keeps the 
irons Smooth and Clean. 

if REE A Chinarette Painting Set, 
tray, brush and colors, to every pur- 
chaser of five sticks of F. P. C. Wax. 
Send five trade-marks taken from 
the sticks to 

FLAflE-PROOF CO., New York City. 

Life is Short! 

Retain Yotir Youth! 

. . Go to . . 

French Lick 


West Baden Springs 

in the highlands of Southern 
Indiana, on the 


Rest for the weary ; Health for the ill; 
Recreation for all. 

The remedial properties of the various 
Springs at these famous resorts are world- 
renowned for chronic ailments of Stomach, 
Liver, Kidneys and Bowels. You drink 
the waters — nature does the rest. 

Excursion Rates an d excellent train service from all parts 
of the country. 

Hotel Rates range from $8 up to $35 per week, including 
free use of waters. Accommodations from the plain boarding 
house up to the finest apartments and service to be obtained in 
the best metropolitan hotels. 

Booklet telling' all about the waters and giving - list of the 
hotels and boarding houses with their rates sent free. 

Chas. H. Rockwell, Frank J. Reed, 

Traffic Manager, Cen. Pass. Agt., 


An Index to 
The Volumes of 


A complete, comprehensive 
index to the first twenty=seven 
volumes of St. Nicholas, con= 
taining 20,000 references ar= 
ranged analytically, alphabeti= 
cally,and classified — now ready. 
Invaluable to every owner of 
the bound volumes of St. Nicho= 
las. Cloth bound, price $4.00 


Union Square, New York 


shoes mm 


A fast disappearing feature of New England life is 
the old Cobbler, known and loved in every town and 

The picture which we show above is taken from 
life — the old Cobbler of Gilmanton, N. H. — now 
nearly ninety years of age, and quite a famous 
character in the neighborhood. 

A picture of this, size 15 in. x 18 in., without adver- 
tising, on paper suitable for framing, sent to any ad- 
dress on receipt of ten cents in stamps. 

Sorosis Shoes, A. E. Little & Co., Lynn, Mass. 



NE of the greatest conveniences travelers can take 
with them for their own exclusive use is a supply of 
Ivory Soap. It will save them much annoyance and 
discomfort. To have a pure soap always at hand is a great 
source of satisfaction. Ivory Soap is a quick and thorough 
cleanser, and speedily removes the dirt and stain of travel. 



&f>e Libby Awards 

In accordance with the special prize competition 
announced in the May St. Nicholas on designs for 


the following awards have been made by the committee composed of Messrs. J. A. Dixon representing 
the Youth's Companion, E. C. Patterson representing Collier's Weekly and C. T. Lamb representing the 
Saturday Evening Post. The following points were taken into consideration by the committee : (1st) 
the advertising value of the design ; (2nd) the artistic merit of the composition ; (3rd) the mechanical 
execution of the work : 

1st Prize, $50.00 — Nor- 
man P. Hall, Age 18, 402 
W. Adams St., Chicago. 

2nd Prize, $10.00 — Hugo 
K. Graf, Age 15, 4545 

N. Market St., St. Louis, 

3rd Prize, $5.00 — Spec* 
ial Mention — George 
W. Gronyn, Age 14, 840 
E. 141 St., New York. 

3rd Prize, $5.00 — Fred 
Stearns, 6442 Normal 
Ave., Chicago. 

3rd Prize, $5.00—R. Por- 
ter, Age 17, 105 W. 7th 
St., Peru, Ind. 

3rd Prize, £5.0O— Jane 
Meldrin, Age 13, Madison 
Square, Savannah, Ga. 

3rd Prize, $5.00 — Grover 
Melville, Age 17, La 
Grande, Oregon. 

3rd Prize, $5.00— Mabel 
Burr Taylor, Age 14, 64 
Goethestrasse, Edangen, 

3rd Prize, $5. OO— Doro- 
thea Clapp, Age 15, 52 
Hartford St., Dorchester, 

3rd Prize, $5. OO— Rose 
Stella Johnson, Age 16, 
126 C St. S. E., Washing- 
ton, D. C. 


FIRST PRIZE— Norman P. Hall, 403 W. Adams St., Chicago. 

Checks have been mailed to the prize winners and the design awarded the first prize is produced herewith. From the immense 
number of contestants and the interest taken in the competition it is evident Libby's Natural Flavor Food Products have a very 
warm place in the hearts of American Young: People. ■ 

The little book '■ How to Make Good Things to Eat " is sent everywhere free. Send five 2 cent stamps for Libby's Big Atlas of the World. 




& Libby 

The Old Reliable 


Absolutely Pure 




A strong, well-fed and well-nourished brain 
is absolutely essential. 

The brain food GRAPE-NUTS was made 
for a purpose. 

It was made by a skilled food expert. 

It does what it is intended to do. You 
can get certain results by a steady use of 

The Food for Thought. 












108 Fifth Ave., New YorK. 

266 Wabash Ave., Chicago. 

Catalogue mailed free upon request. 

No other soap leaves such a sense of 
freshness and cleanliness as Lifebuoy 
Soap. It not only cleanses like magic 
but also safeguards the health, as it 
disinfects— purifies, at the same time. 
Buy a cake and use it all up and 
if not all we say of it, dealer will 
promptly refund purchase money. 



Vacation Number 








within reach 


Silver Leaf Lard 

The three prime contributing fac- 
tors which make perfect Hams and 
Bacon are — 

/. Selection. 2. Cure. 
3. Smoking. 

The meats for "Swift's Premium" 
are first selected from a daily choice 
of thousands of pieces, cured in a 
mild, slow cure, and then smoked 
long enough to give them the proper 
ham or bacon flavor. Factory and 
U. S. Government inspection, brand- 
ing, wrapping in white parchment 
paper, care in handling and shipping, 
conserve the selection and cure, and 
guarantee the quality. 

Swift & Company, Chicago 

Kansas City 
St. Joseph 

St. Paul 

St. Louis 
Ft. Worth 

[The entire contents of this Magazine are covered by the general copyright, and articles must not be reprinted without special permission.] 


Frontispiece. "So They Potter in Their Garden Till the Flowers Love Page 

to Grow " 866 

Drawn byAnnaWheelan Bettz. (Illustration for "The Bashful Little Bachelor.") 

The Bashful Little Bachelor. Verse Annie T. Colcock 867 

Illustrated by Anna Wheelan Bettz. 

The Bell-Buoy's Story. Story John Weatherby 871 

Illustrated by I. W. Taber. 

Pansies. Verse Thomas Tapper 878 

Illustrated by J. H. Hatfield. 

What's the Use? Verse Burgess Johnson 879 

Illustrated by Edna Morse. 

The Race of the Sea-Horses. Verse Elizabeth Ruggles 880 

Illustrated by C. D. Ferrand. 

The Farmont Tea-Room. Story Frances Cole Burr 881 

Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. 

Picture. Monday Morning in Fairyland 893 

Drawn by Margaret Ely Webb. 

Five Hundred Little Worlds. Sketch Mary Proctor 893 

How We Boys were Stormbound on Minot's Lighthouse. Story. Parmaiee McFadden 897 

Illustrated by I. W. Taber and M. J. Burns. 

In a Forest Aflame. Story . . H. S. Canfield 900 

Illustrated by Bruce Horsfall. 

August. Verse Mary Brownson Church 905 

Counting the Stars. Verse t. t 905 

The Daring Froggy. Verse James Clarence Harvey 906 

Illustrated by the author. 

" Napoleon's " Wagon-Shed Campaign G. M. L. Brown 907 

With diagram. 

The Story of King Arthur and his Knights. Serial Story Howard Pyle 908 

Illustrated by the author. 

Life on the Wing. Verse Samuel Gilmore Palmer 921 

Aunt Tabitha. Verse Webster Duyckinck Campbell 922 

Illustrated by M. O. Kobbe. 

A New Miss Muffet. Verse r J. C. Meem 922 

The Apple-Tree and I. Verse Thomas Tapper 92^ 

Illustrated by J. H. Hatfield. 

The Little Lion with the Big Voice. Story Anna Isabel Lyman 925 

Illustrated by C. L. Bull and A. Doring. 

The Merlads. Verse Margaret Vandegrift 928 

Illustrated by Albertine Randall Wheelan. 

Pictures. The Kitten's Chess Party 931 

Drawn by M. Mulford. 

Polite Abijah. Verse Ellen Douglas Deland 9^2 

Illustrated by C. T. Hill. 

Picture. The Bee-Hive 934 

Drawn by Peter Newell. 

Picture. A Sudden Shower 934 

Drawn by A. H. Stanley. 

Nonsense Calendar. August. Verse Carolyn Wells. 935 

Illustrated by M. E. Leonard. 

Nature and Science for Young Folks 936 

On the Beach in August — Clinging to the Stones — On Standing Still — An Up- 
side-down Flower — Young Eagles — The Leaf-Miners — A Queer Plant Growth — 
The Nest of a Cactus Wren — A Beautiful Breasted Grosbeak — Birds at a Summer 
Residence — Glow-worms — A Four-footed Animal with a Beak Like a Duck — Sea- 
Shore Memories. 

The St. Nicholas League. Awards of Prizes for Stories, Poems, 

Drawings, and Photographs 944 


Books and Reading 956 

A Correction — Hard Facts — A Reference Library— " Wait-a-Bit"— Prize Awards 
— The June Competition — A Storied Flower. 

The Letter-Box 958 

The Riddle-Box 959 

Subscription price, S3. 00 a year; single number, 25 cents. The half-yearly parts of ST. NICHOLAS end with 
the October and April numbers respectively, and the red cloth covers are ready with the issue of these numbers; price 50 cents, by mail, 
post-paid; the two covers for the complete volume, $r.oo. We bind and furnish covers for 75 cents per part, or $1.50 for the com- 
plete volume. In sending the numbers to us, they should be distinctly marked with owner's name, and 54 cents (27 cents per part) 
should be included in remittance, to cover postage on the volume if it is to be returned by mail. Bound volumes are not exchanged 
for numbers. 

Persons ordering a change in the direction of Magazines must give both the old and the new address in full. No change can be 
made after the 5th of any month in the address of the Magazine for the following month. 

wl^M^W^glw&R^secy. THE CENTURY CO., Union Square, New York, N. Y. 

Aug. 1903. 



11 The school for young ladies cele- 
brated throughout the West, where our 
mothers and grandmothers were taught 
~Monticello."—lYL-E. Crisis. 

Long before the 
days of which 
( Founded 1835. ) • Winston Church- 

ill wrote, was famous for sound scholar- 


New Monticello 

ship and influenc- 
es that developed 
noble womanhood. 

(Ite built 3891.) 

Begins its 66th year Sept. 24, true to the spirit of its founders. It meets the wider 
demands of the present with fine modern buildings and a well balanced Course of Study. 
Departments, each in charge of trained specialists, for English, Classic and Continental j 
Languages, Science, Music, Art, etc. Completely equipped Gymnasium. Beautifully 
shaded Campus of 60 acres with Tennis Courts, Golf Links and Basket Ball Field- 
Apply early ; forty applicants on the waiting list last year. 

Address HISS H. N. HASKELL, Principal, 

New- York, New- York, 1931 Broadway, cor. W. 65th St. 


cp uaat Stenography, Typewriting, Telegraphy, Book- 
^v-'-fH-' KJJ-im keeping, etc. Day and evening classes. Reg- 
istered. Send for catalogue. H. W. Remington, Principal. 
New-Y"ork, New-York, 150 Fifth Avenue. 

E. Miriam Coyriere Teachers' Agency. 

Schools, tutors, conscientiously recommended, both home and 
abroad. Instructors supplied to universities, colleges, schools and 
families. Musical Department. Established 1880. 

New- York, New- York, Broadway and 120th Street. 

The Horace Mann Schools 

of the Teachers College, Columbia University. 
Kindergarten, Elementary and High School. Special attention 
to college preparation. A larger staff of teachers and more com- 
plete equipment for the coming year. Nearly all grades are full, 
and applications should be made promptly. Fall term will open 
Monday, September 21st. Letters may be addressed to 

Samuel T. Dutton, Superintendent. 

New- York, Park Hill, Yonkers. (30 minutes from N.Y. City.) 

lbb CrOWIl S (Formerly 711, 713, 715, 717 Fifth Ave- 
nue.) Opens October first, 1903. For circulars, address 

Miss Anne Brown, Highcliffe Hall. 

New-York, Manlius. 

Summer Session 



June iStk to September 18th. 
Recreation or study. Camping and excursions. 

Connecticut, Wallingford. . _ ~ 

TVm CKfiatP ^pVinnl A Preparatory School for Boys. 

i ne cnoaie scnooi. Mark Pitman> a . Mj H / ad 

Master. Refers by permission to Hon. William G. Choate, Rev. 
Marvin R. Vincent, D.D., New- York City; Rev. Edward Everett 

Hale, D.D., B oston. 

Connecticut, Norwalk. 

Home School for Girls. 

Receives about 35 resident pupils. 42 milesfrom 
New- York City. An ideal environment for study 
and recreation. Broad cul- 
ture, and real training of mind, 
body and manners. Parents 
appreciate the motherly interest and 
attention shown their daughters, the 
^y thorough mental culture, and the gains in 
health and happiness. It is a home 
school in the highest sense. Intermediate, 
Academic and College Preparatory classes. 
For catalogue address 

Miss Cornelia F. Baird, Principal. 

New-York, Carmel. 

Drew Seminary for Young Women. 

College Preparatory and Special Courses in Art, Music and Elo- 
cution. Illustrated Circular. 

President, D. H. Hanaburgh, S.T.D. 
Ohio, Columbus, 151 East Broad Street. 

Miss Phelps' Collegiate School for Girls 

Beautiful home, modern equipment and careful training. Academic 
and College Preparatory Courses. Music, Art and Physical Cul- 
ture. Certificate admits to leading colleges. 

Kentucky, Shelbyville. . n ,, D c , , 
. tt-11 c ^r^^~\ A College Preparatory School 
bCienCe Lilll bCnOOl. forgirls. Certificate admits to 
Wellesley and Vassar. Teachers are graduates of the best Eastern 
colleges. Seventy-ninth annual session begins September 9, 1903. 
Mrs. W. T. Poynter. 

Massachusetts, Wellesley Hills. 
T? (->/-» Xr Te'rlcra tt„ii A School for Boys. High and 
JvOCK JTvlQge xLail dr y location in a village free from 
evil influences. Laboratories, new gymnasium, scholarships. A 
vigorous school life. American ideals. Descriptive pamphlet, with 
many carefully executed full-page illustrations, sent free on request. 

TTNewEngland , 



In a Conservatory building erected for its 
exclusive use and surpassing in size, gran- 
deur and equipment any institution of the 
kind in the world, the New England Con- 
servatory of Music presents advantages 
unparalleled in this country or abroad. 

The scope of its courses is such that no 
limitations are set upon the student's 

Every department under a master. 

Pianoforte, Organ, Orchestral Instru- 
ments and Vocal Music courses are 
supplemented by such other branches, as, 
History of Music, Theory, Language, Dic- 
tion, Piano and Organ Tuning, Choir 
Training, Musical Journalism. Depart- 
ment of Elocution and Oratory affiliated 
with Emerson College. 

The Concerts, Recitals and daily associa- 
tions are in themselves worth more to the 
student than the cost of tuition. 

Graduates are eagerly sought as teachers. 


All particulars and year-book will be tent on application. 







schools m^ 

Wisconsin, Waukesha Co., Delafield 

The St. John's 



School farm, 200 acres. 
For catalogue, etc., address 

Dr. S. T. Smythe, President. 


Established by Bishop Whipple in 186b. 

Rt. Rev. S. C. Edsall, D.D., LL.D., Rector. 

Miss Caroline Wright Eells, Principal. 

A beautiful, home-like school for girls, in the healthful climate of 

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Co-operative with the University of Chicago. Admission by 
certification to the University of ^Minnesota, Wellesley, and other 

More applicants last year than could be accommodated. Early 
application necessary. 

For circular of information address 

St. Mary's Hall, Faribault, Minn. 

Aeolicraft Model Yacht 

Sails on a tight wire; goes about automatically 
at each end ; keeps in motion as long as the 
wind blows. 

The Latest Scientific Toy. 
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racing, $3.00, prepaid. 

Send for descriptive booklet free. 


125 West 31st Street, New York City. 

Minnesota, Faribault. 

Shattuck School. 

Of all schools Shattuck has the most bracing climate for health 
and strong constitution. Military department is used as aid to 
mental and moral training. Terms $500. Limit 160. Boys 7 to 12 
separated from older boys in ideal school with country life. Write 
for Catalogue and Illustrated Booklet. Address 

Rev. James Dobbin. 
Wisconsin, Fond du Lac. 

Grafton Hall. 

School for Young Girls. Academic, Collegiate, Music, Art, 
and Domestic Science. 
Rev. B. Talbot Rogers, M.A., Warden. 


Connecticut, Storrs. 

Summer School of Nature Study Teachers, 

at the Connecticut Agricultural College. For month of July. 
Edward F. Bigelow, Nature and Science Editor of St. Nicholas, 
Instructorin " Methods." For particulars address Stamford, Conn. 

TUNC nA lev CIV l/ll I C Destroys a11 the flies and af - 
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IT will be good news 
to the readers of St. 
Nicholas that Mrs. C. V. 
Jamison, the author of 
"Lady Jane" and "Toi- 
nette's Philip," has writ- 
ten a new book which 
will be published in the 
autumn. It is called 
"Thistledown," after its 
hero, a boy-acrobat. 








Nowhere can a person secure more real, de- 
lightful comfort on a railway journey than on the 
great trains over the Lake Shore and Michigan 
Southern Ry. 

And this is due to the equipment — always the 
best — excellence of road bed and nicety of 
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When you have occasion to 
travel between Chicago and 
j Cleveland, Buffalo, New 
• York and Boston, by using 
the Lake Shore you will se- 
cure absolutely the best in 
travel that money can buy. 
For "Book of Trains" or 
travel information, address 
A. J. SMITH, General Pass, and Ticket 
Agent, Cleveland, Ohio. 



Cool in Colorado 

Spanixk PecJCx, Colorado* 






Why not go to Colorado this summer? 

Pleasant Trip on the Santa Fe. 

Snow-capped mountains — trout streams — camping out. 

Ask for free copy of our profusely illustrated book, "A Colorado Summer." It 
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summer. Go via the Santa Fe and enjoy ioo-mile panoramic view of the Rockies 
—Pueblo to Denver. 

For full particulars, address 

Gen, Pass. Office, Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railway, Chicago. 

Santa Fe All the Way 

{See "The Bashful Little Bachelor," page 867.) 


Vol. XXX. 

AUGUST, 1903. 


By Annie T. Colcock. 

In the coziest of cottages that any one could find 
Three merry little ladies live as gaily as can be : 

Exactly of an age are they, and wholly of a mind, 
So it is n't very likely that they '11 ever disagree. 

No. 10 

They have settled it among them in a very pleasant way; 

For one had owned the cottage, and another had a cart, 
While a third one kept a pony with a coat of dappled gray — 

And it seemed like utter folly for the three to live apart! 

So they potter in their garden till the flowers love to grow ; 
And they drive about the countryside, the neighbors for to see. 
" We 're really no relation, but we rather like it so," 

Say Miss Molly and Miss Dolly and Miss Polly, all the three. 

A bashful little bachelor, who lives across the way, 
Has quite an eye for beauty and a very tender heart. 
" My charming little neighbors grow more charming every day ! " 
He exclaims, when e'er they pass him in their little pony-cart. 

At first he was not brave enough to make a formal call 
On Miss Molly and Miss Polly and Miss Dolly, all three: 

So he threw a kiss at twilight just across the garden wall, 
But the proper little ladies all pretended not to see. 

Copyright, 1903, by The Century Co. All rights reserved. 


One night, beside his lonely hearth, he thought the matter o'er : 
"I really want a wife," he said, "no matter which it be; 
I '11 write a tender letter, and I '11 leave it at the door 

For Miss Molly and Miss Dolly and Miss Polly, all the three." 


So he took a sheet of paper with his monogram in red, 
And the writing he put on it was a marvel for to see, 
With a flourish to each capital ; and this is what it said : 
"Will Miss Polly or Miss Molly or Miss Dolly marry me?" 

He tied it up with ribbons, and he hung it on the gate — 
As the door-bell tinkled noisily his heart went pitter-patter! 

Then he hid around the corner, but he had n't long to wait, 
For all the little ladies ran to see what was the matter. 


They found the little letter, and they read it in a trice; 

And Miss Dolly and Miss Molly and Miss Polly said: "Oh, me! 
It 's really a proposal, and it 's surely very nice, 

For it shows that he admires us exceedingly, you see." 


Said Dolly : " I would marry him if I were all alone " ; 

And Miss Polly and Miss Molly said: "Why, yes; and so would we ! " 
" But he '11 have to separate us, or it really can't be done," 

Said Miss Polly ; and the others cried : " We perfectly agree." 

" Do you know, in my opinion, 't would be wiser to decline," 
Said Molly ; " for to separate would never, never do ! " 
Said Dolly, then : " Your thoughts, my dear, quite coincide with mine." 
And Polly smiled delightedly, and cried : " I think so too ! " 


So they wrote a little note to him that very afternoon : 
" We do not wish to marry, and we hope you '11 not insist ; 
But won't you drop in sociably some evening very soon, 

And take a cup of tea with us, and play a game of whist ? " 

So now the little bachelor goes calling once a week, 
And all the little ladies are as gracious as can be. 

He 's getting more courageous, though he hardly dares to speak; 
But he quite enjoys his game of whist and likes his cup of tea. 

Miss Molly holds the teapot, and Miss Polly pours the cream, 

And Miss Dolly, with the sugar-tongs, supplies his cup with lumps; 

And the game of whist that follows is like a happy dream, 

And he smiles across the table when his hand is full of trumps ! 

By John Weatherby. 

Master Photographer, as soon as you 
have finished taking all the snap-shots of me 
you care to, I wish you would come over here. 
I want to tell you something. You are the 
first boy who has visited this yard that has not 
scratched his name on my old weather-beaten 
sides or climbed along my railing and pounded 
rocks at my bell until my head fairly ached ; 
and I think all the more of you for it. I have 
grown to like boys, — that is, the right kind, — 
for you know I am a boy myself, although I do 
not spell my name just as you do. 

You must not think that because you find 
me here in this navy-yard scrap-heap, with 
other worn-out apparatus, that I am an ordi- 
nary buoy. I have been a proud spirit in my 
day, and I rent the shackles that bound me to a 
stupid berth down the coast. I have been a 
rover, and have sailed the main as proudly as 
any vessel that floats — more, I have traveled 
whither I pleased, and no human hand guided 
my course. We roamed together, the wind, 
and the waves, and I, and some friends we met 
by the way. I have seen better days, but I 
am tired and am resting, and now maybe they 
will let me end my days ashore. 

Come closer, little chap, for I like you and 
I will tell you my story. 

For a long time I had been lying on a gov- 
ernment dock, when, one morning, some men 
came and gave me a new coat of bright red. 
I felt very proud to have my fellows see me so 
gaily attired, but in a day or two they carried 
me off, and dropped me in the water, and towed 
me down the coast until we came to the south- 
eastern shore of Florida. There they fastened 
a huge chain and anchor to me, and there they 
left me. I was supposed to warn seamen of 

a chain of dangerous rocks — "keys," they call 
them — a little to the north of me. That, of 
course, would have been a useful enough occu- 
pation for any self-respecting buoy, but I soon 
found that I was wasting my energy in clang- 
ing away at my bell with nobody but the waves 
and the gulls to hear me ; for, believe me, not 
more than a vessel or two came within sight or 
sound of me once in a month. 

I had often talked it over with the waves, and 
together we had agreed with the wind that I 

"NOT more than a vessel or two in a month. 

ought not any longer to bury myself in this 
way. If I could have been of any use I would 
not have cared. They promised their help. 
So in a few days the wind came hurrying 




down from the west, and a little later the 
waves came also, and the two of them tugged 
at me with all their might; but my anchor — 
one of that mushroom kind — by this time was 

very little adventure worth speaking of. One 
moonlight night, as I was bowling along at a 
comfortable rate, I suddenly felt the chill of icy 
water, and the Gulf Stream told me we were 


buried deep in the sand. A few more tugs, 
however, and my chain parted and I was free. 
Free — think of the joy ! 

The wind and the waves kept me company 
until we reached the warm, swift-moving waters 
of the Gulf Stream, and there we parted. 

I thought to myself, " Now, maybe, I can see 
something of foreign waters " ; and as the Gulf 
Stream was going that way, I concluded to 
go too. 

We sailed along for a week or more, with 

meeting the cold Labrador Current, and that we 
must be near Nova Scotia, or more probably 
Newfoundland. I felt sure he was right when 
I saw a Canadian fishing-smack go by me. I 
seemed to provoke not a little interest, for the 
sailors peered at me as if they had never seen 
a bell-buoy before. I saw one of them go be- 
low, and in a moment reappear with a chart, 
which he spread out on the roof of the deck- 
house, while all hands studied it; and even after 
lie had taken it back to the cabin, they kept 




talking me over and pointing at me until I was 
out of sight. Perhaps they thought I had no 
business there, just because they could not find 
me on their stupid old chart. But then, how 
were they to know that I was a free buoy and 
had left the service of Uncle Sam ? The Gulf 
Stream told me that whenever he meets the 
cold water of that arctic current a fog sets in 
that is almost as difficult to see through as a 
mainsail, and that it has caused the end of 
many a fair vessel and 
honest fisherman. 

I was nodding off to 
sleep that night when 
I heard a shout, and, 
peering through the 
mist, I saw a small boat, and as I drew nearer 
I saw that there were two men in it. 

" Lost off the Banks ! " I said to myself. 


How often I had heard the waves tell of such 
things; but how real the thing seemed now, 
and how awful ! They had probably rowed off 
from the fishing-vessel to draw a net ; and the 
fog had shut in on them and they had lost their 
bearings. Poor fellows ! They had heard my 
Vol. XXX.— iio-m. 

bell, and it reminded them of home — of the 
early morning bell in the little church of their 
Nova Scotian fishing-village ; and those two 
lonely, lost fishermen, adrift on the broad At- 
lantic, at the sound of my tolling had bowed 
their heads in a prayer for help. 
How glad I would have been 
could I have helped them ! 

I moved along on the current 
of my good friend the Gulf 
Stream, when, a little after daylight, I suddenly 
felt something — indeed, it seemed as if there 
were fifty "somethings" — grasp me all over 
my upper framework, and then climb up on 
my body until I was three fourths under water. 
I struggled to free myself, but it was of no 
use. Then I heard a panting voice say : 
" Let me rest a minute, whoever you are, and 
don't let that big fellow get me." 

By this time I had 
quite recovered from 
my surprise, and knew 
I was in the embrace 
of a huge cuttlefish. 

" What 's the trou- 
ble ? " I asked. 

"Trouble enough," 
he said. " I have been 
chased by a greedy old 
whale until I was about 
ready to give up, when 
I saw you. I think I 
am safe here, for he 
won't want to tackle 
you. You are too much 
bone for his taste." 

I let the old fellow 
rest awhile until he 
thought it was safe to 
go ; and he swam away, 
the most grateful cuttle- 
fish you ever saw. 

A few days later I had 
the greatest scare of my 
life. It was about six bells in the morning when 
I banged with tremendous force against a rock, 
as I thought ; but in a moment I came to my 
senses, and saw before me a towering ice-wall 
that seemed to reach to the skies. And 00-00-00 
but the water was cold ! The shivers ran up 

8 74 



my broken anchor-chain until they reached my 
bell, and shook it like a main pennant in a gale. 
I saw that the ice had been melting fast, and 
just as I was backing off, a loose mass from 
high above came toppling down, and landed 
squarely on my head. 
It hove me down until 
I thought I would 
never right again; but 
I am a pretty strong 
buoy, the engineers al- 
ways said, — stronger, 
I imagine, than if I 
spelled my name as 
you do, — and I bound- 
ed back like those toys 
you boys have that 
always sit up straight, 
no matter how you lay 
them down. To this 
day I have felt strained 
in my upper frame 
from that shock. 

As the berg drifted 
away I looked off at 
him, and I could not 
help pitying him as I 
thought of the majes- 
tic fellow drifting un- 
consciously to his 
doom; for I knew from 
the direction in which 
he was heading that 
the hot sun and the 
warm waters would 
soon put an end to 

The next day I 
passed a swordfish, 
and I jangled my bell 
to attract his attention; 
but he was so busy 
chasing a school of 
mackerel that he 
would not stop. Perhaps he did not hear me. 
I was sorry, for I was a bit lonesome and would 
have enjoyed a chat. 

But I must n't dwell on the sad parts so 
much, for really, to tell the truth, I had the 
best kind of time, on the whole. 

A few days after I had left the iceberg I 
had an awfully funny experience. It did n't 
seem so funny at the time as it has since I have 
thought it over. It was about four hours after 
sunrise, and I was bargaining with some sea- 


gulls, whom I wanted to clear my frame of a 
lot of seaweed, in return for which I was to let 
them ride on my back for the rest of that day, 
when I suddenly felt myself thrown high in the 
air, and as I looked down I saw beneath me 
the long, black body of a sperm-whale. 




I was so cross — no, mad: I am afraid I was 
downright mad — that I took no care as to 
where I should " land " when I struck the 
water, and, as luck would have it, I came 
down ker-plunk right on the old fellow's tail ! 
The story got around somehow, and he was the 
laugh of the sea for miles about. I saw him 
several times after that, but he never forgave me, 
for he was lame for a month and could scarcely 
swim. His little joke 
-^ turned out quite differ- 
ently from what he ex- 
pected; at any rate, he never tried to play 
basketball with me again. If he was the same 
whale that chased old-daddy-long-legs cuttle- 
fish, I am not sure but that it served him right, 
while I am sure he had only himself to blame. 

I came across a forlorn old schooner during 
a violent thunderstorm one day shortly after 
this. She was a wreck, — what they call a " dere- 
lict," — and nobody was on board. I followed 
in her wake for nearly a day, but she had so 
much more exposed than I that the wind finally 
carried her off from my course. 

You will understand that I was making 
acquaintances all the time; but they were a 
restless lot for the most part, and usually did 
not care to bowl along at my leisurely pace. 

I must tell you about some athletic sports 
in which I took part. One bright, clear day, 
shortly before sundown, I was overtaken by a 

jolly lot of young porpoises just let out of 
school. They were frisking away as happy as 
could be, greeted me pleasantly and hurried 
along. One young rascal called back, asking 
if I did n't want to be towed ■*(& V 

— fancy! They had not been 
gone more than an hour when —^ 
they came rushing back — in increased num- 
bers, as I at once saw. The biggest one of the 
lot, the chap who had been saucy to me before, 
swam up to say that shortly after they had left 
me they had met another school, and the idea 
occurred to them that it would be good fun to 
have some jumping games, and that maybe I 
would n't mind if they used me as a sort of hur- 
dle. I did n't at all like the idea at first, but 
they were so nice about it that I finally gave in. 
I really believe that if any vessel had 
passed near us for 
the half-hour that 
followed, it would 
without doubt have 
thought that a sub- 
marine earthquake was taking place. Such a 
splashing and springing you never saw ! One 
little chap, instead of jumping through my bell- 
frame between the lower cross-bar and the 
upper plates of my body, as the others did, had 
barely force enough to land him squarely upon 
me, and there he lay flopping about while the 
whole school laughed heartily — that is, they 





puffed and snorted at a great rate, and I pre- she would run me down ! I was determined to 
sume it was what they would call laughing, be heard this time, so I clanged away at my 


The little fellow was so ashamed that when he 
finally rolled off he swam back to his home 
without waiting for the fun to be over. 

And so it went ; nearly every day there was 
something new. 

To make a long story short, I drifted far to 
the north of England, and finding nothing of 
interest in that direction, I turned to the south- 

By this time I was pretty tired and, I must 
confess, a wee bit homesick. I looked with 
longing after a huge passenger-steamer as she 
came somewhere from the southern coast of 
Ireland, bound back to America. I rang my 
bell, but too weakly to make her hear, for she 
kept right on her course. I watched her long- 
ingly until she disappeared on the horizon. 

Then along came a government cruiser. 
How glad I was at the sight of the old flag as 
the vessel bore straight in my direction as if 

bell with a will; but I might have saved my 
strength, for they had already seen me and had 




8 77 

slowed up to meet me. It was the business of 
her officers, it seems, to look after waifs and 
runaways like me, and they certainly did their 
duty. Indeed, I afterward learned that they 
had known of my leaving those Florida Keys, 
and, in a way, had been on the lookout for me 
for many weeks. A boat was lowered and I 
was towed alongside, and in a few minutes 
was hauled aboard and finally brought back to 
America and my friends. 

So here I am, taking a quiet rest after my 
long buffeting of the tireless waves. 

I overheard an officer say the other day that 
there was a chart up in Washington some- 
where showing the course they supposed I had 
taken. Their map may be correct, but they 
could never put down on a chart the many 
things I have seen and heard and done. That 

is something they know nothing about, for I 
am telling you some of them now for the very 
first time. 

If I am ever needed I shall be willing enough 
to go into service again if they will only select 
a berth that is more worth my while, and they 
can rest assured that the next time I will stay 
where they place me. 

And yet, do you know, I shall not be sorry if 
they let me end my days right here in this 
quiet retreat, within sight and hearing and 
smell of my old friend the ocean, and where I 
can occasionally have a jolly little chap like 
you to talk to. 

Come again, old fellow; but when you do 
come I am going to ask you to tell me your 
story: for, as I said before, you are a boy, too, 
though you don't spell it with a u. 





By Thomas Tapper. 

■■SllHE pansy blossoms please me so, 

With faces all awry : 
See this one looking at the earth, 
And that one at the sky. 

While this one laughs, that yonder frowns, 
And here 's one wants to talk; 

And all this happens ev'ry day 
Just by the garden walk. 


By Burgess Johnson. 

What 's the use o' growin' up ? 
You can't paddle with your toes 
In a puddle ; you can't yell 
When you 're feelin' extra well. 
Why, every feller knows 
A grown-up can't let loose. 
I don't want to be no older — 
What 's the use ? 


What 's the use o' growin' up ? 
You could n't ride the cow. 
An' the rabbits an' the pig 
Don't like you 'cause you 're big. 
I 'm comfortnblest now. 
P'r'aps I am a goose : 
I don't want to be no older — 
What 's the use ? 


What 's the use o' growin' up ? 
When I 'm big I don't suppose 
Explorin' would be right 
In a neighbor's field at night — 
I won't like to get my clo'es 
All watermelon juice. 
I don't want to be no older — 
What 's the use ? 


What 's the use o' growin' up ? 
When yer growed, why, every day 
You just have to be one thing. 
I 'm a pirate, er a king, 
Er a cow-boy — I can play 
That I 'm anything I choose. 
I don't want to be no older — 
What 's the use ? 

8 79 






-7 •>. 


ROM out of tifc depth of the 
Dark Blue^ea, 
A sea-horse reared his head. 
And ff V\(hat do you say 

lb aV^x^to-day Y" ::: ^ s ^^ 
In a hofe*«£riitt4e voiceTn^Saidc 

And the wind a signal blew 
For this is the way- 
So the sea-dotfs say- 

gener any ^g[°^0 

► -■- **. *— ^ 





Sy Frances Cole Burr. • 


The morning sun shone full through the un- 
blinded windows of the east room upon the face 
of a young girl asleep in the great mahogany 
bed. She stirred uneasily and opened her 
eyes, sleepily at first, then wide in bewilderment 
at the unfamiliar surroundings. She stared at 
the muslin curtains fluttering in the cool air ; at 
the fireplace with carefully laid sticks ready for 
the match ; at the big cretonne-covered lounge 
with its one plump, ruffled pillow. Here her 
eyes rested in dazed recognition, for on the 
lounge was a traveling-case, elegant, modern, 
and somewhat out of keeping with the old- 
fashioned repose of the room. Near the lounge 
stood a small mahogany toilet-table, on which 
were scattered the many ivory and cut-glass 
toilet articles belonging to the case. 

"Oh, yes/" exclaimed the girl, the memory 
of her long journey of yesterday rushing back 
as she surveyed the room more closely. It was 
large and bare, and its exquisite neatness was 
revealed by the sunshine which glorified every 
corner. The few pieces of mahogany furniture 
were quaint and elegant. 

A half-hour later she softly opened her door, 
for she was almost afraid to disturb the hush 
of the house. No one was to be seen as she 
stepped lightly down the worn, polished stairs. 

From a lower room came swiftly to meet her 
a little white-haired woman in black. 

" My dear," she said, her sweet face beam- 
ing with pleasure, " I did not waken you — I 
thought you would sleep late. You are re- 
freshed, I hope ? " 

" Oh, yes, thank you, aunty," replied the girl. 
" But how strange it all seems ! I 'm half be- 
lieving it 's a dream — it 's like a new world. 
Are you always so still ? " 

" You find it quiet ? " said the elder, with a 

shade of anxiety. " It is a change from Chi- 
cago, doubtless, but it is sure to do you good, 
after all you have passed through, dearest child ! 
How happy I am to have you with me ! But 
you must breakfast before we even begin our 
acquaintance." And she led the way to the 
dining-room, where the girl's quick eye ran over 
every detail of the room, the dainty breakfast, 
and the maid who served it. She was evidently 
accustomed to rapid judgments, but these con- 
ditions were perplexing because her standards 
seemed not to fit the case. To be sure, the rug 
was worn, the silver thin with age, the window- 
curtains frail from much laundering; but, then, 
too, there was with it all elegance and refine- 
ment. How could such things be ? But she 
gave up wondering and turned her attention to 
the raspberry jam. 

" Like melted rubies ! " she said. " Where 
do you get it, auntie ? Papa asks for rasp- 
berry jam sometimes, but he does n't seem 
to care for it when he gets it. It never looks 
like this, though." 

" We have grown these raspberries for many 
years," said her aunt, " and the receipt for the 
jam comes from your great-grandmother. I 
always make it myself." 

" Oh ! " said the girl to herself, with another 
bewildered glance. " Makes her own jam! " 

Miss Sabrina talked of her journey, of the 
brilliance of the February sunshine, of the pot 
of tulips on the breakfast-table, of everything 
except the new first sorrow which had darkened 
her niece's life, until they went into the library. 
There the girl chose a low seat close by her 
aunt's side, and began to talk of her mother 
with clear, tearless eyes and unbroken voice, but 
with eagerness to make vivid the picture which 
was so beautiful to her own mental vision. 





" Yes, Elinor dear," said Miss Sabrina. " You 
cannot know how anxious I am to hear about 

She seemed to be looking back on something 
very far away as she told of her life in Chicago, 
her school and friends and unclouded happi- 
ness until she came to the last sad month. 

" It all happened so suddenly. Mama was 
ill only a week — we never dreamed she would 
leave us. Even now I can't always think it is 
true. And then in two weeks the crash came in 
the city. Poor papa had seemed dazed since 
mama died. I had n't even thought to ask 
him about business, though I had known for 
weeks before that things were serious and even 
critical some days. Papa talked to me lots, 
you know, and I knew about business matters. 
But after mama went, nothing else seemed im- 
portant, and we just used to talk about her; 
and when the failure came, papa seemed hardly 
to care the first day, then suddenly he woke up 
and went into it all, harder than ever. He '11 
fix it somehow ; you '11 see. Papa could n't be 
poor. He 's just got to have money — lots 
of money." 

" Poor James! " murmured Miss Sabrina. 

"Yes," said the girl, "I know. I often said 
'poor papa,' but you don't know how he loves 
it all. Even the worry and excitement and un- 
certainty — he just loves it. I like it, too. 
Papa and I used often to plan how we would 
have managed together if I had been a boy. I 
would have gone in with him next fall. But 
now I don't seem to belong anywhere. I 
can't help papa, and darling mama is gone — " 
And she stopped, her face became flushed, and 
suddenly, with wild crying, buried her head 
in Miss Sabrina's lap. 

Miss Sabrina's tears fell fast on the bowed 
head. The story had opened for her a vista 
into a different life. 

This was her first meeting with the only 
daughter of her youngest brother, who had 
gone as a boy to Chicago, married when very 
young, accumulated a fortune, and was sep- 
arated from his New England family as com- 
pletely as though he were living in a foreign 
country. Photographs often came of the beauti- 
ful wife who was prominent in the social world, 
and of the daughter who rapidly grew to be 

like her. Always, of late years, costly gifts 
came at Christmas-time, but rarely a letter. 
He seemed to have had no time to visit his old 
home where this one sister, much older than 
himself, lived. But the daughter often asked 
about her only living aunt, and this visit had 
been planned before the double calamity 
which left the man wifeless and financially 
ruined. He took the latter blow philosophi- 
cally enough. He had seen many another man 
go down and also come up again. He al- 
most welcomed the necessity for furious struggle 
to regain his place, for this helped dull the sick- 
ening sense of loss and despairing grief, and he 
was eager to fight it all over again for the girl 
who was sobbing out her first grief in her aunt's 
tender arms. 

Later in the morning, after Elinor had un- 
packed her trunks, the contents of which were 
something of a revelation to Miss Colby, and 
they were again seated by the library fire, a 
light step was heard in the hall, and a fresh 
young voice said : 

" May I come in ? " 

" Yes indeed, Persis," said Miss Colby, as a 
tall, slender girl appeared in the doorway. 
" Elinor, my dear, this is Persis Gardner, my 
neighbor and my very good friend — and yours, 
too, I hope. You are kind to come so early to 
welcome my niece." 

" I have been waiting impatiently since 
breakfast ; we have been so happy in anticipat- 
ing your coming." 

" Thank you," said Elinor, shyly. " I did 
not expect to find Aunt Sabrina's friends so 
young " ; and the girls laughed with Miss 

" Persis is almost alone, as I am, and we 
comfort each other, I hope." 

" You know I could n't do without you, Miss 
Sabrina," said Persis, with grave tenderness. 
" You see, I live with some distant relatives in 
that little house beyond the garden, so I am 
here often. Miss Colby lets me study here 
when I can't have quiet at home." 

" Are you in school ? " 

" Yes ; getting ready for college next fall. I 
heard from my mathematics yesterday," the 
girl said, turning to Miss Sabrina. " An ' A ' — 
are n't you glad ? " 




Miss Sabrina seemed to know about the 
mathematics and other matters of which they 
spoke, while Elinor listened and observed with 
keen interest. The girl's brown hair was 
brushed smoothly back and massed in a heavy 
knot at the proper angle. Her brown eyes 
were clear and bright, though she wore eye- 
glasses, which added to her serious expression ; 
but there was more than a suspicion of drollery 

was her aunt's, for that matter. And as Elinor 
marveled at the gracious dignity which domi- 
nated the unfashionable garments, she ques- 
tioned, for the first time in her well-millinered 
existence, the vital importance of an absolutely 
correct cut. 

" I never saw any one quite like Persis," 
thought Elinor, " but she looks very nice." 

Meanwhile Persis was thinking with gener- 


in the curves of her pretty mouth and the tilt 
of her firm chin. 

Her vowels seemed aggressively broad, and 
her morning-dress was undeniably plain — the 
limp skirt of two seasons back, and the flan- 
nel shirt-waist of rather doubtful fit. " Awful 
style," commented Elinor to herself. But so 

ous admiration that she had never seen any one 
so pretty or so perfectly dressed. The waves 
of Elinor's soft brown hair were pinned and 
clasped into an effect of complicated simplicity. 
Her wide-opened blue eyes, her brilliant smile, 
and the soft color which came and went so 
readily, vivified the pretty, studied graces of 

88 4 



careful training. She was still in her traveling- 
suit, and wore a shirt-waist, as Persis did, 
but with a difference : it was tailor-made, and 
betrayed its breeding in each immaculate de- 

" I know I shall like her," thought Persis ; 


and she did. The friendship grew and strength- 
ened through the months which the three spent 
together. For Mr. Colby's affairs remained un- 
settled, and Elinor's visit was prolonged. They 
were beginning to talk vaguely of summer plans, 

when, one morning, as Elinor was looking over 
Persis's collection of photographs, she came to a 
series showing glimpses of a little village of wide, 
elm-shaded roads and white cottages. 

" How pretty these pictures are ! " she said. 
" Where were they taken ? " 

" Those are all Far- 
mont pictures. Yes, 
Farmont is pretty — 
very pretty," said Per- 
sis. " I remember the 
first time I saw it we 
were driving through 
on a coach. It had 
been a dusty ride, and 
we were all so thirsty; 
but, will you believe, 
there was nothing to be 
had to drink except 
water and milk ! Not 
even at the hotel, as it 
was n't meal time. It 
seemed strange, with 
city boarders in almost 
every house on the main 
street. I 've been there 
several times since. 
It 's very pretty; but I 
always begin to feel 
thirsty as soon as I 
get there." 

" What is there to 
do in such a place ? " 
asked Elinor. 

"Oh, nothing very 
much," said Persis. 
" People read, and 
walk, and make things 
for Christmas, and go 
up the mountain, and 
drive a great deal, and 
the girls all study a 
little. Oh, I don't 
know — but lots of peo- 
ple go there." 
Elinor was looking into space, with a thought- 
ful wrinkle between her eyes. 

" I should think such a place needed a tea- 
room," she said. 

" A what ? " said Persis, with some surprise. 

(SEE PAGE 89O.) 




"A tea-room — don't you know? A sort 
of center where people could drop in in the 
afternoon and get tea, or 
frappe, or something." 

" Do you mean a res- 
taurant ? " asked Persis. 

"No, indeed!" said 
Elinor, with scorn. " I 
mean a — a — why, don't 
you know what a tea- 
room is ? I should think 
it would pay." 

" Well, then, let 's do 
it, if it 's a good thing 
and we could make some 
money," said Persis, 
practically. " That 's 
what I must do this 

" Who — we do it ? " 
exclaimed Elinor. 

" Yes — why not ? 
Could n't we? " 

" Why-ee ! Would 
you ? " 

"Well, I don't quite 
know what it is yet; but 
I want to get in the 
country this summer, 
and I want to earn some 
money to help out next 
year at college ; and I '11 
do anything — a tea- 
room or anything else 
that will combine these 
two highly desirable fea- 

Elinor's eyes were 
round with astonish- 
ment. Then the busi- 
ness instincts of her fa- 
ther's daughter began 
to stir within her. What 
would it be like to earn 
instead of spend ? Her quick, vivid, practical 
mind saw all the possibilities. 

"Just in time, aunty," she said, as Miss Sa- 
brina appeared in the doorway. " We have 
a simply stunning idea, and we want to know 
what you think of it ! " 

Miss Sabrina smiled with polite patience as 
she seated herself in the chair which Persis of- 


fered. She could not easily accustom herself to 
the nervous extravagance of her niece's speech. 

" We were talking of Farmont, aunty ; do 
you know Farmont ? " 

" Very well indeed," said Miss Sabrina ; " the 
Wares spent their summers there for years." 




" Well, aunty, could n't we go, you and Per- 
sis and I, and take one of those little houses on 
that wide, grassy main street, and make the 
parlor a sort of place where people would like 
to come ? And then, when they came, beguile 
them with tea and lemonade and things — and 
candies, too — " 

" And we could put up lunches," said Persis. 
" No native of Farmont can make a self-re- 
specting sandwich." 

" And have some embroideries started for the 
people who get out of work. I love to do one 
corner, but I loath doing four ! " 

" And ices, too — " 

" My dears ! " gasped Miss Sabrina, " what 
do you mean ? " 

"Just what we are saying, aunty," said Elinor. 
" Will you be senior member of a company 
whose worthy aims are to make its everlasting 
fortune and charm the town of Farmont ? " 

" Dear Miss Sabrina, we really do beg your 
pardon," Persis repentantly began. " We did n't 
mean to startle you, but perhaps we 've thought 
of something. You know I must have a little 
more money before I go to college next fall, 
for I can't be sure of tutoring or anything else 
the first year, and I can't do good work if I 'm 
worried about the money part. And if this 
idea of Elinor's is practical, and it does seem 
so at first thought, why could n't we go, we 
three, and try it ? At least it would give us a 
summer in the country, and if we did n't make 
much we certainly could n't lose anything, for 
we could keep house cheaper than we could 
board — if we could keep house, and if you 
would take Hannah with us, and if she would 
go — " She paused breathless, while Miss Sa- 
brina closed her eyes and tried to grasp the clue. 

" Could you tell me, more slowly and rather 
more clearly, just what you mean ? " she finally 
said to Elinor. 

And Elinor began to describe the room, 
already quite real to her own mind: the walls 
papered in yellow-and- white stripes; the white- 
painted woodwork ; the tea-tables on which 
viands not native to Farmont should tempt the 
presumably ravenous appetite of the summer 
people; the luncheons put up for bicyclers 
and mountain-climbers — 

"But this would mean work — hard work 

and constant work. You do not seem to real- 
ize this, and you know nothing about it," Miss 
Sabrina interrupted. 

" I should n't mind working," laughed Elinor. 

" Then there is the financial side," she said 
after a few moments' thought. " It would be ne- 
cessary to invest some money in the beginning. 
Persis has nothing to risk, and you may not 
know, Elinor dear, that my income is very 
small and requires careful management." 

"Well," said Elinor, " I should n't think it 
would take much, and I have some money of 
my own; I could use that. I should pay my 
board wherever we went, and I could just as 
well invest it all at the beginning of the sum- 
mer, and then you and Persis could pay your 
share weekly, or something like that." 

"Well," said Miss Sabrina, finally, "you 
know I am free to go to Farmont if it seems 
best. You know, too, my dear," turning to 
Persis, " that your education is a matter of in- 
terest and concern to me, and I am proud of 
your efforts and achievements so far, and will 
gladly help if I can. The plan does not seem 
to me quite so self-evident an assured success 
as to this astonishing young person ; but after 
you have thought it over more carefully I will 
be led by your young heads to any reasonable 
length. Provided" she added with emphasis, 
" always provided Elinor's father understands 
the matter fully and gives his consent." 

Then she left them. Shortly after this Persis 
went home, and Elinor wrote a long and much- 
underscored letter to her father, which was 
deciphered by him with great trouble. Then 
he wrote a letter of approval. 

Of course the reaction came for all three, and 
was endured in solitary misery by each. There 
were hours when Miss Sabrina wondered how 
she could have been so hasty, so foolish, so 
weak-minded as to allow these children to gain 
her consent to this folly ; hours when she had 
haunting visions of herself sitting behind the 
counter of a bake-shop selling buns to the Wares 
— for, despite Elinor's powers of description, the 
idea took this awful form in poor Miss Sabrina's 
mind ; hours when she pondered how to break 
the news to Hannah; and, above all, a desper- 
ate reluctance to meet this startling departure 
from the usual peaceful calm of her summer life. 




Elinor, too, had seasons of flaming cheeks 
when she wondered what certain girls of her 
own set in Chicago would say ; homesick days, 
too, when she longed to give up everything and 
fly back to her father's arms. 

None of these things troubled Persis, but she 
trembled sometimes at the thought of putting 
any of her tiny fortune into this venture. Sup- 
pose they should fail ? And then she had an 
offer to spend the summer at the sea-shore and 
tutor two small boys; but the plan was far under 
way by that time, and she could not retreat. 

Late in April they journeyed to Farmont. 
Swelling buds and balmy air were left behind 
as they went northward among the hills, and 
barren boughs, acres of mud, and lingering 
snow-drifts greeted their vision as they stood 
shivering on the little wooden platform waiting 
for the hotel bus. 

»" This is n't the place — this can't be ! " cried 
Elinor, in amazed disappointment. 
" I don't wonder you think so," said Persis. 
" I can hardly believe my own eyes. Miss 
Sabrina, can that swamp trail around the hill 

I be the lovely bridle-path ? " 
" This is April, remember, not August," said 
Miss Sabrina, drawing her mink cape closer. 
They drove to the hotel, and after a cup of 
tea, which they obtained after much persua- 
sion, their courage rose with their temperature. 

" ' The time has come,' the Walrus said, 
' To talk of many things,' " 

I murmured Persis, as they finished; "and now 
I '11 bring Mr. Plummer." 
Mr. Plummer was frankly and flatteringly 
curious to know why his guests had visited 
Farmont at this season. 

" Want to rent a house, do ye ? " said he. 
" What fer ? " 

" To occupy this summer," said Miss Sabrina, 
without a shadow of resentment. She had been 
in Farmont before. 

" Calculatin' to take boarders ? " he inquired. 

" N-no," said Miss Sabrina, feeling a little 
uncertain as to what local name would be given 
to the plan she was "calculatin' " on. 

" Goin' to keep help ? " he continued. 

" We shall bring one servant," said Miss 

Sabrina, with an inward tremor at the memory 
of that interview with Hannah. 

" Wal, I d'nno. How big a house do ye 
want ? " 

" The location is of more importance," said 
Miss Sabrina. " We wish to be central." 

"There 's the Watson place," said Mr. 
Plummer, meditatively; " that jines the store." 

" No ; that would not do. I wish to be 
farther up the street." 

" Wal, I d'nno," he repeated. " I did hear 
that the Slosson girl was thinkin' of leavin' 
town since old man Slosson died. That 's a 
considerable pretty place. Why don't you go 
see Susan Slosson ? She 's to hum now. I 
d'nno if there 's anything better — if there 's 

" Well ? " said Miss Sabrina, turning to the 

" Certainly," said Elinor; " let 's go at once." 

The Slosson place was near the road — a neat 
white cottage, with its front door opening into 
a tiny hall, from which narrow stairs ran steeply 
up. A square best room was at the right, into 
which they were shown by Miss Susan Slosson, 
who answered their knock, and who was a large 
person clad in a calico wrapper and decorated 
with a string of gold beads. Her air was ques- 
tioning, not to say suspicious, as she admitted 
them, and it increased as their errand was made 
known. She did n't know why Plummer had 
felt called on to say she was goin' to leave Far- 
mont. She did n't know as she was. She was, 
all upset since pa died. Pa had been childish 
and a dretful care, and she was all wore out. 
She had said she might go down below to stay 
a spell with her sister — she did n't know as. 
she would,' and then again she did n't know 
but she would. 

Meanwhile Elinor's eyes were roving in dis- 
appointment about the room — a hopeless room 
for their purpose. 

" I doubt whether your house would suit our 
needs even if you wished to rent it," said Miss. 
Sabrina, stemming the easy flow of Susan's 

" That 's for you to say," returned Susan, 
with instant resentment. " I d'nno what you 'd 
find better kep' up or more convenient." 

" May we look at the house ? " asked Miss. 



Sabrina, with some hesitation. There proved to 
be two bedrooms behind the parlor and hall, 
with windows opening toward an orchard which 
extended back of the 
house. From the little 
hall another door led 
into the dining-room, 
which Miss Slosson ex- 
plained was used in win- 
ter as a kitchen also. A 
door at the farther end 
opened into a summer 
kitchen. Elinor's spirit, 
which had nearly died 
within her, lifted its head 
once more. The dining- 
room was large and low, 
with raftered ceiling and 
brick fireplace. This was 
nailed up with a sheet of 
zinc, and an iron range 
stood on the brick 
hearth. Above the nar- 
row shelf were cup- 
boards with brass- 
knobbed doors. 

An outer door opened 
on a narrow piazza half 
•overgrown with honey- 

" I believe it will do!" 
whispered Elinor, clasp- 
ing Persis's hand ner- 
vously. " With lots of 
white paint, and muslin 
•curtains, and new wall- 
paper, and that fireplace 
rescued, this room would 
he lovely. Just look at 
.all the little shelves 
about — " 

" We will look up- 
stairs now, if we may," 
Miss Sabrina was say- 
ing, ' : and then we will go back to the hotel to 
consider the matter ; and meantime you can 
decide whether you care to rent your house for 
five months, and what your price would be. 
'To-morrow morning we will call again." 

The conference, after supper, in the little 

hotel sitting-room was fraught with fearful joy 
and hopefulness, and in the morning Miss Slos- 
son, who had consulted friends overnight, was 


found ready to vacate her house May ist and 
seek untried pleasures " down below." 

Miss Sabrina explained their plans, and Susan 
was graciously tolerant, observing that, as far as 
she could see, one thing that city folks did 
was n't any foolisher than another. 




Miss Slosson was visibly amazed by their 
request to have the carpets, which were gor- 
geous, taken up, but assented readily, and 
agreed also to their desire to have the dining- 
room and parlor floors painted at their own 
expense. They retained the use of only such 
articles of furniture as were absolutely necessary, 
relegating to the store-rooms above, the family 
portraits, the stuffed furniture, the fancy-work, 
and the parlor organ. She explained to Miss 
Slosson that they wished their housekeeping to 
be as simple as possible, while their landlady 
rejoiced in the rescue of so many of her posses- 
sions from the wear and tear of daily use. 

Persis took the afternoon train back to Bos- 
ton, and during the next few days Miss Sabrina 
knitted fears and trembling and repentance and 
corroding care into the shawl which busied her 
fingers, while Elinor, immensely entertained, 
made friends with the various personages whose 
help she needed. 

" Yes," agreed Mr. Plummer, three days later ; 
" it 's real aggravatin' sometimes. Marcy ought 
sure to of come when he promised — he ought, 
really. It 's kind of upset him — that there white 
background to your paper. He said he never 
put on none like it and he was kinder thinkin' 
it over a spell. He thinks it will show dirt too 
much. He '11 be round to-morrow, I guess." 

At the end of the week the renovations were 
fairly under way. Miss Sabrina and Elinor 
returned to Boston, and the girls began their 
collection of the varied furnishings for the tea- 

Aunt Sabrina reminded them of the practical 

" All such expensive suggestions," the girls 
said reproachfully. 

" But absolutely necessary," returned Miss 
Sabrina, with mild firmness. 

Elinor's account-book was a model of ac- 
curacy, and Miss Sabrina wondered daily at the 
method, the directness, and the sense with which 
this untrained girl led the enterprise. Persis 
followed philosophically in the rear, accepting 
Elinor's projects with calm appreciation of their 
financial value and sturdy disregard of work in- 

" It 's college for me," was her invariable 
answer when Miss Sabrina protested against 
Vol. XXX.— 112. 

the multiplying schemes. Many dozen fasci- 
nating little jam-pots and a big preserving-kettle 
were purchased, and the Farmont raspberries 
bloomed and blushed all unconscious of the 
plots against them. Elinor thought of every- 
thing — of boxes for luncheons, of waxed paper 
and white wrapping-paper and paper napkins, 
of canned and bottled dainties, of flavorings and 
colorings, of gilt cord for candy-boxes, and olive 
oil for salads, and labels for the jam-pots. When 
the day of their departure finally came, all of 
their goods except their trunks had preceded 

Already summer life was beginning to stir 
in Farmont. Several near-by cottages were 
opened, and yellow carts and buckboards ap- 
peared on the village street. In Miss Slosson's 
dooryard the clumps of yellow lilies and blue 
iris made a delicious splash of clear color. The 
apple orchard was a wilderness of fragrant 
beauty which the bobolinks translated into 
song, and again Elinor said : 

" This can't be the place ! " as they paused 
at the gate. A moment later they were in the 
transformed kitchen — pure, cool, and glorified 
with its white paint, the radiance of the brass 
knobs, candlesticks, and andirons faintly reflected 
in the pale yellow stripes of the wall-paper. 

" I can't wait to fill that fireplace with fern," 
cried Elinor, " and we '11 put the long window- 
seat here, and the two little tables so. Oh, 
Persis — oh, Aunt Sabrina ! did you ever see 
anything so dear J " And the two girls whirled 
about the room in a mad two-step which served 
to relieve their overcharged feelings. 

Hannah, alone unmoved, took immediate pos- 
session of the summer kitchen. This example 
had good effect, and Miss Slosson, who took the 
outgoing train, was bidden a decorous farewell. 
By night the new housekeeping was fairly begun. 
By the next night the tea-room stood a realized 
dream, with Elinor's first vague description — 
" a sort of place where people would like to 
come " — fulfilled in carefully thought out pro- 
vision for the needs and pleasures of the sum- 
mer visitors. 

A round table stood by the window-seat, at 
which the industrious could sit and drink their 
tea while they looked over the embroideries 
which Elinor had selected with exquisite taste. 




Temptingly near was a tiny glass show-case 
which was to hold the supply of home-made 
sweets. On the opposite side were little tables 
where ices could be served. 

Then on a morning — a notable morning — 
Marcy, who had developed by the way of the 
white wall-paper into the factotum, fastened to 
the fence an artistic little sign modestly lettered 
" The Farmont Tea-room." By noon all was 
ready, and the proprietors of the new institution 
sat down in nervous anticipation to await 

Meanwhile, down the village street four bi- 
cycles leaned against the hotel piazza, and 
three boys adorned several chairs; the fourth 
hovered uncertainly between the office and 
piazza, and finally sauntered up the road. Ten 
minutes later he reappeared. 

" Say, you fellows," he called, " come on ! 
There 's the smoothest little joint up here ! 
Frozen stuff and bully-looking candy. Wake 
up and come on." 

" It 's a mirage," remarked one, resignedly. 
" He 's just seeing things. There never was 
anything frozen in this town after April 1st." 

"All right," returned Teddy; "don't call 
names when you come by later and find the 
freezer empty " ; and he sped swiftly up the 
street, closely followed by the incredulous 

Elinor and Persis, who had bravely faced 
their first customer, and stared after him in in- 
dignant perplexity when, after a comprehensive 
glance about, he retreated with a hasty promise 
to return, now clasped hands in terror as the 
quartet appeared in the little dooryard. 

"They are coming in, Persis Gardner — the 
whole four of them ! I should think people 
ought to come one at a time till we are a little 
used to it," whispered Elinor, nervously. 

" They don't know it is the first time," said 
Persis. " Don't you dare be afraid " ; and she 
advanced with outward dignity which cloaked 
a quaking heart. 

These boys seemed to crowd the dining-room 
in an unaccountable manner, and Persis felt a 
lack of preparation for meeting the possible 
wants of four extremely big and thirsty boys. 

" Awfully jolly little place, this," remarked 
Teddy, the spokesman, affably. " We fellows 

have just been dining at the hotel, and thought 
we 'd finish up here, if we may. We 'd awfully 
like something cold." 

" We have raspberry sherbet," began Persis, 
and a fervent " Great ! " came from the ranks, 
" and ice-cream — " 

" That 's it," said Teddy ; " that 's what we 

" Both ? " said Persis. 

" Yes, please, all" said Teddy, and the four 
disposed themselves about two tables. 

"Oh, more, Hannah!" whispered Elinor 
when she reached the back kitchen, as she de- 
tected a tendency in the maid to avoid at least 
an over-generosity in filling the plates ; " they 
look so big and hungry." And the feast began. 

Teddy read the printed slip which lay beside 
his plate with visible joy. 

" We 're going on to Thorndike this after- 
noon," he said, " and we shall be late getting 
there ; if you could put us up a luncheon — ? " 

" Certainly ! " said Elinor, with very bright 
eyes and very flushed cheeks, and she retreated 
to the kitchen, where she hugged Hannah 
ecstatically before beginning to make the sand- 
wiches. Miss Sabrina came to help, and Persis 
appeared for more sherbet. 

" They 're eating fudge, too," she hysterically 
whispered, " and jam; and they say to make it 
a big lunch ! " 

A half-hour later the quartet slowly wheeled 
away with luncheon-boxes strapped to their 
handle-bars, and the proprietors of the tea-room 
gazed speechlessly at each other. 

" The greedy — big — " began Elinor. 
"They 've taken all the candy, and there 's 
hardly any sherbet left ! What shall we do if 
any one else comes ? And I had to give them 
the chicken we were going to have for our 
supper. I never supposed that any one would 
want lunch the first day." 

Persis laughed with streaming eyes. 

" You goosey ! " she said, when she could 
manage her voice, " did n't we make it to sell ? 
And is n't this the best kind of advertising ? 
Those four boys — " 

" Greedies ! " interjected the unmollified 

" — will spread our fame throughout New 
Hampshire. And look at the cash-box ! " 

I 9 o 3 .J 



" Fine, healthy b'ys ! " said Hannah, grimly, 
from the doorway. 

Miss Sabrina sank into a chair and fanned 
herself with agitation. 

" Dear me ! " she said. " Dear me ! It 
does n't seem nice to allow them to pay so 
much for a little refreshment this warm day. 
Such nice-looking boys, too; and tired out, I 
dare say. Dear me ! " 

They had opportunity to discuss the matter 
in all its bearings, for no one else came that 
day. And next day only a little girl wandered 
in and bought half a pound of candy. They 
had ice-cream for supper that night, and tried 
not to look at each other, and went early to bed. 

But next day a gay procession from a newly 
opened summer cottage stopped to read the 
little sign, and promptly dismounted from buck- 
board and horseback and invaded the place. 
From that hour the fame of the tea-room was 
secure. It rivaled the post-office as a rendezvous. 
Hannah's mayonnaise went to every picnic, 
great-grandmother's jam was ordered by the 
dozen pots for next winter's breakfast-table, and 
people learned that they must come early to get 
candy. There was an assistant for Hannah in 
the kitchen, and Marcy came each morning to 
make the ice-cream. 

Those were days of hard work, of early rising 
and careful planning and thrifty managing, but 
their success was constant. 

The days were not all smooth. The village 
children, pledged to a supply of berries through 
the short season, were given to berrying in 
companies; so that there were days when the 
kitchen overflowed with the perishable fruit, and 
days when the favorite sherbet was called for 
in vain ; also days when candies were sticky 
and fudge refused to cream. On one such, 
Persis, who was placidly labeling jam made in 
the early cool of the morning, glanced up with 
aggravating lack of sympathy as Elinor flung 
off her close linen collar, and only remarked 
under her breath : 

" The men that fought at Minden, they 'ad stocks be- 
neath their chins 
Six inch 'igh an' more." 

Elinor stirred viciously, and the evil mixture 
suddenly hardened into an obstinate lump. 

" ' Curioser and curioser ' ! " said Persis. 

" If you must quote," burst out Elinor, hotly, 
" I wish you 'd quote somebody besides Kipling 
and ' Alice in Wonderland ' ! I 'm tired of the 
sound of both of them." 

" If you ever read anything worth quoting, 
it would be to your advantage," replied Persis, 
meeting the heat with freezing resentment. 

And then Elinor flu